You Only Live Nine Lives
by magnumnopeus
Summary: When a few teenagers party together under one roof, things start to get a little frisky. But one shy teen is left out and stuck with the creepiest guy invited; the weed man. Human AU. Longfic.
1. Chapter 1

Author Notes:

Welp, this was in my brain and now it's on the internet. Uhhhh, a few notes for you dear reader:

This fiction will contain sexual content as well as smoke, drink, language and any other fun stuff adults do so if this is not your cup of tea, I suggest you make like a dolphin and dip. Everyone is more or less 19+ and bein bad kidz. I don't describe any particular hair or eye color for Meulin and Kurloz just because when I like to read a nice story, my head canon sometimes doesn't match the writers and when that happens I'm all "aw, this kinda ruins it for me :(" so I just decided to leave it out! I hope that is ok. The only thing I really wanted to modify for fun was their skin colors but it's not that bad, it's mostly for Kurloz to contrast with Meulin. As for the rest of the story, most of this was out of jest in the late night of my spontaneity, which is a factor in this story as well, I guess! And just because I wanted to see this so badly done I said to myself: "You want it done right you might as well do it on yer own!" So, um, yes. Here you are, time for me to leap towards the sun with embarrassment and foolishness. Also, it's perfectly okay to not look up the small details in the story that you're not familiar with because in the end it won't be of any use to you later on. Just continue to laugh at Meulin's confusion because that's fun huehehe. Man, this is going to be long and detailed and weird, bear with me. I might add more chapters but I can't promise anything.

**TL;DR** Do you ever, like, just wanna sea two interestin characters please each other in a humorous fashion? 'Cause I do.

Ok, have fun! And thank you for indulging me. 38*

_Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie. I am not affiliated nor do I make any profit from this story._

* * *

_**You only live nine lives.**_

* * *

"Yo, where is the brown? I want to get this party started already."

Meenah's gold bracelets dangled in front of Meulin's face as her finger pointed to their cerulean host on the left side of the couch.

"Go fetch it for me."

Out of the corner Meulin's eye, Aranea's lip curled and her arms folded across her chest.

"We're waiting until everyone else gets here, you know that."

"That's BS. Rad girl is designated driver, _Hamlet _head doesn't like to drink due to his brain problems and Maryam didn't even say if she was swingin' by or knot."

Meenah chucked softly at her subtle innuendo.

"So be a good guppy and fish it out."

Her hand relaxed, turned 90 degrees to the right and moved from side to side, imitating the elegant speed of a rainbow fish tail. It caused her honey colored ornaments to sway and gleam in the dim lighting of the cube-like living room. Meulin was so mesmerized by its beauty her hands twitched and knew they wanted to delicately claw at it like some curious kitten. But she guessed she was too distracted and didn't notice Meenah had tried to get her attention until one of her long, fuchsia-polished nails flinged her nose.

"Hey Meumix, ever tried VSOP?"

"V.S.O.P? What's that?"

"It's a brandy. I forget you don't drink much. Dag, when did my party become so lame?"

Aranea stood up and headed towards her small kitchenette.

"When I figured out that this 'party' was just an excuse for you to get everyone involved shitfaced wasted so that you can connive late-night hookups and laugh about it later at MY apartment. And how you are going to do that, I wish I knew."

"Word travels fast, sweet cheeks. And I don't even have to say shit to Ampora. You know he's goin to try and bring his flunky group of failjects with him. Speakin of which, I need to contact one of them so we can get the smoke on."

"Ugh, please don't tell me-"

"Don't wanna hear it. He's the only guy with decent loud and reasonable pay. Also, how much are you willin to fork over?"

"So not only are you getting everyone shit face wasted, you're going to ask for contributions for the 'Get Meenah High' charity and actually invite Mr. Creepers? Something tells me this 'end of summer' party is not all what it seems."

"It never is. And hey, when I throw a bangin' senior party at my bestie's house, it's the banginest party there is. Also, what gossip do you possibly think he's gonna spill?"

"True that. Also, I think I will wait to give my answer until everyone else has arrived."

"Wise decision."

Aranea walked back to her navy couch with two shot glasses in one hand and an old fashioned glass filled with brown liquid in the other. Meulin noted that the bigger glass handed to her was a lighter tint. She mouthed a polite thank you and stared at it with no particular emotion. Normally she would have squealed from excitement to try something new but this was completely out of her element; the drinking, the socializing and even agreeing to go to Meenah's party.

Normally on a Friday night she would be huddled up in her faux-fur comforter, re-blogging gifs on Bubblr, watching marathons of her favorite shows with captions and even having the energy to write small, indecent one-shots of her favorite characters. It would be her last year of high school and it would be the last time she could all do something outrageous and fun before she headed out in the world to make something of herself. Meulin was always too afraid before, simply because she didn't have anybody to trust due to her…hearing problem.

No, this wasn't the time to dwell on that. She did have people she trusted, or at least she told herself while she stared at her cup of brown liquor. While her companions were clothed in tight-fitting dresses and heels, complimenting each other's color choices of fuchsia and cobalt, Meulin simply donned a dark green sweater that cut off horizontally so it showed off her shoulders. Her poufy hair was long enough so that people wouldn't notice right away. Her pleated, grey skirt reached down to her lower thighs while green, cotton stockings covered her curvy legs. Black heels that adorned her feet could pass for sexy school girl shoes, but then again, when sexy comes to mind, anything she wore was not very high on her list. Maybe if she was a runaway heir to a wealthy family, she could afford some high end fashion. Meenah did say there wasn't a specific dress code but still, what is somebody came that she wanted to impress?

"Cod, it's like she's a fish out of water. I love it."

Meenah and Aranea were cheek-to-cheek, shot glasses in hand, kneeled in front of Meulin and stared hot laser beams into her very unsure eyes.

"Oh shush."

Aranea moved her hand so Meulin's attention was grabbed and placed on the movement of her lips.

"You don't have to try it if you don't want to."

"No, it's fine! It's not fur-I mean, fair to be the only sober one, right? I might as well have some fun!"

"This is the exact reason you were invited. I knew you would be willin to do somefin new. You go gurl."

Meulin beamed at them and stuck her tongue inside the glass. She expected a horrible taste, but instead her face lit up in pleasant surprise.

"Oh my gosh, it tastes like apple juice!"

"Yeah, we figured you'd like this with a chaser. By the way, a chaser is somefin you mix with a hard drink to make it taste betta. Might as whale educate you so no scrub tries to tail you otter-wise. Anemoneway, Serket knows how to mix her shit. Sigh. If only others can recognize your fine hostess talents."

As if on cue, both hostesses turned their heads to the sound of a shave-and-a-haircut knock on the door. Aranea stood up, sauntered over to the door and scrutined whoever was on the other side through the peephole.

"It's Cronus and Kankri."

"Sunuva…! Who told them they cod come so early?! The clean-up crew only shoals up when I demand it."

Aranea rolled her eyes and headed back to the kitchenette while Meenah downed her shot and replaced Aranea's spot. She opened the door that revealed one teen with a smug demeanor and an unlit cigarette in his mouth while the other uninterested with his arms folded across his red sweater.

"Hot _damn!_ I didn't realize this party would have such a sexy la-"

"You weren't invited."

"Well if you'll only just let me persuade you into-"

"Ok, but, you weren't invited."

"Yes, I understand that, but-"

"Cronus, I really do not understand why I had to leave my privilege sermon to accompany you along a fruitless journey only for both of us to face the same conclusion we could have had back at the apartment. While-"

"Hate to break the upcomin essay short, Vantas, but I would like to thank you both for shoalin everyone great examples of why you both will knot be settin one foot across this doorway. Also where is the third lackey? He's not answerin my texts."

"What? Why're you interested in him, but not us?"

"Cuz he got da bud, Ampora. Duh!"

"Maybe if you let us in, I'll give you some of my grade."

"Ew! Shell naw. I don't smoke mid. Shit is mad harsh on the gills."

"Well, I don't know where he is, so would you kindly-"

"Vantas?"

"…"

"You both are fuckin useless."

"HEY, what's CRACKALACKIN' my rad girl! Oh wow, are we late to the party already?"

"What's good home skillet? Also codn't you have come _after_ I haddock shooed these two low grade losers away from the general premises?"

"Who the FUCK ARE YHOO CALLINng louSERS YOU BITCH-FACED VAGINA FISH GRADHIDJFNIERKGNVZJERNGVJK-"

"Eelmao, calm down tuna breath, how many people can you count? Do I have to pop in an episode of Sesame Street with your favorite countin vampire?"

"FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUKC YUO."

"K."

"Meenah, just let them all in already!"

"NO GLUBBIN WAY, SERKET. This is MY PARTY and I'll CRY if I WANT TO."

"Yeah, well this is MY apartment and I have the right to pour out all this BRANDY IF I WANT TO!"

Meenah turned and faced her cerulean home girl with an expression only to be described as if her favorite gold statue was to be repossessed before her very eyes. Meulin, within the span of time Meenah had been 'glubbing fondly' to everyone, downed her first glass and Aranea, being the good hostess she was, mixed her a second. Meulin was already confused about why nobody was inside yet, so confused she decided to stay and enjoyed her tasty beverage in peace.

"…You wouldn't. Aw man, yeah you would. Pyrope, Captor, get in here. Vantas, Ampora, I have an assignment for you. Find Makara and _maybe_ I will let you in, otter-wise, there's no snowy chance in hell."

"It's offishal, babe."

Meenah puffed her cheeks and furrowed her pierced brow at the lovely fish pun while Kankri no doubt 6lah 6lah 6lah'd in Cronus's ear about all the reasons in the universe why he wouldn't help his roommate with such a time-wasting task. She slammed the door and looked at her party's progress. Well, at least it's better than one person being shit face wasted.

"Who is THIS totally radical chickadee? I feel like I've seen her at school somewhere."

"Yeah, she does but she is deaf so you have to fish for her attention. She can read lips."

Meulin always had this third sense whenever people tried to get her to acknowledge them. She looked up from her half-empty glass to see the girl with the cool, red glasses. She had only passed her by in hallways, never formally meeting. But she definitely remembered Mituna Captor, or 'Hamlet Head', from her freshman disabilities classes. The brandy gave her skin a red flush of color as she grinned and waved energetically to them.

"HeY CANSHE see this? DON'T GET TWOo DRUNK IT'SATRAP THEY'REGOIN TA KUILL YOUY LATr TONItT"

"I just remembered that I need someone to laugh at once I get high. Thanks, tuna-boy!"

"FKCU FKUC FCKU YOU."

"Is that anemoneway to treat a valued hostess?!"

"…I'm sorry."

Meulin giggled, laid back on the couch and merely observed the scene. Things rather turned out better than expected. Aranea had brought filled cups preemptively, which Meulin now assumed had chasers in them, and handed them over to the new guests. She also saw that she had offered them a room to stay since there would be no reason to go home so early if they knew they wouldn't have done anything tomorrow. So Latula agreed to keep an eye on her companion. In Meulin's eyes, of course, she already shipped them in a very romantic way.

Everyone's eyes were at the door once again and Meenah's demeanor changed from slightly amused to devilishly excited with both her hands rubbed together and a sly grin on her face.

"Oh buoy oh buoy oh buoy!"

She opened the door only for her expression to dial back down again.

"Oh, hey, sup Maryam. Nice to sea ya."

"Nice to see you as well. I see your party is thriving marvelously."

"Yeah knot reely, we're still waitin for bud so we can maybe play spades. You know, all the cool stuff seniors do these days."

"I see. Well I came to inform you that I won't be attending tonight because I have other matters to tend to."

"Ooh. _Matters _to _tend to. _Share da deets."

Meenah's eyebrows wiggled, indicating her piqued interest.

"Sorry, not this time."

"Whale dag, why didn't you just message me or somefin?"

"I bumped into the insufferable, and prince of hopelessness, and they wanted me to tell you that they found Makara but he was tending to another party happening on the east side so they might be a while."

"What party?"

"The one in which I have to tend my matters."

"Are you searious? What the hell does that party have that I don't?"

Porrim pursed her dark lips and gave Meenah a sly smile through her eyes.

"Whale if _that's _what you're wantin, I got a delicious, jade lady gettin all sorts of wasted on my couch."

"No, no, it's a little more serious than that. You know me, always needing to know the scoop on teen drama."

"Ooh. You gonna tail me afterwards? Huh? Huh?"

"…Maybe. Anyway, I'll miss all the fun if I dwell any longer. Have fun, you guys!"

Everyone inside said their esteemed farewell towards Porrim while Meenah closed the door again and grimaced at everyone who stood around the table in the center of the living room.

"This is cullshit. Anemone got info on what's happenin on the eastside tonight?"

"Eh, I wouldn't think about it too much babe. Besides, we're about to play spades and I heard you got some wicked skills but I'm sure there not as good as mine."

"Oh, you came to the wrong Serket's house, gamer girl!"

* * *

Meulin didn't realize two hours had flown by. It was already ten thirty in the evening and by the time any new people arrived everyone had taken off their shoes and sat on the floor to get comfortable. Shot glasses were piled on a separate table where Meulin kept score since they agreed she was the most trustworthy. They were already two games in and too wrapped up to notice anything else. She, on her third glass, was still functional, but she felt different, and warm, almost _too_ warm. _Is this how everyone feels when they drink? _Maybe she should try to go home early; they wouldn't even notice. She could put on her schoolgirl heels and sneak off. Or maybe she should just go to the bathroom and take care of this. Wait, what? _Take care of? _What was even happening? She sat with legs bent and her feet under her skirt. Her hips shifted from time to time and lower body, specifically her loins, tingled with a small flame that the strange liquid had kindled.

"Who the ever glubbin fuck is holdin the little joker?"

_Does everyone else feel this way? Maybe they all engage in this type of game to distract themselves from it. Is this how new ships form_? Maybe she should drink more often.

"Shuhht your facc and deal your kaurd!"

The rest of her body felt fine. A little humid from her sweater and the tense, competitive air but other than that…

"YOU shut your face, reta-! You know what? Fine! Ace of spades! Somebody try to beat that!"

"If I do, will you shut up about it?"

"What? Serket, how cod you? I want the highest card! We're supposed to be partners!"

Maybe if she focused on her breathing? No, that didn't work. Now she was even warmer. Maybe she _should_ try and take care of this. What's the harm? It's times like these she wish she could hear so she would at least have a chance of being turned off, which sounded awful in her head and made her visibly pout.

"Playing with jokers is so new school. Why don't we dish out ace high?"

"No one asked you, Pyrope!"

"Speaking of questions to ask, why are you and Aranea all blinged up from head to toe?"

"Somebody has to be the bassest bipch in the room, even if there is nobody to influence."

Then her mind wandered to the potential risk of taking too long, or worse, getting caught. Oh so many conflicting emotions! The only .gif she could think of to properly convey how she felt was Ron Burgundy in his glass case.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I GOTh THE JOKKER BOWDOWNTOWN TO MEEE!"

"OH SNAP! My boo just spilled the DELIRIOUS BIZZNASTY on ya! High five!"

Their hand slap echoed violently throughout time and space but Meulin would have never noticed. She breathed out and looked at the score card. The 'High Bloods' and 'Sick Grinders' were tied. She honestly didn't care about the game. All she felt was awkward, lonely and horny; three of the worst possible combined feels imaginable. Sad kitty was sad, in more ways than one.

"SUNUVA BITCH! WHERE DID OUR STRATEGY GO, SERKET? WHERE DID WE GO WRONG?"

"When you decided to tell everyone what you did and didn't have?"

"Hey! HEY! That is KNOT my fault I am too drunk for common sense right now."

"To be honest, so am I!"

"Aw, it's ok. Don't worry."

Meenah puckered her lips and made kissing noises across the table to Aranea while Mituna scrunched his face in disgust.

"I Belieev you haffta hold up urr endfs of tha bargann."

"Yea yea, whatebber. Give them their point and pour the shot, Leijon. Leijon?"

Meulin was nowhere to be found, but there was another knock at the door to distract them from investigation.

"AW YIS! 420, SMOKE HERB ERRADAY!"

* * *

Meulin crept upstairs to the abnormally long, dim-lighted hallway with its royal blue wallpaper that covered every inch. She pried open room after vacant room only to have found and spent a good fifteen minutes in Aranea's lavish, ultramarine guest bathroom. All she debated was whether or not to masturbate. In the end she just awkwardly sat on the fuzzy, covered toilet seat, squeezed a breast here and there and sighed heavily to herself before she played mindlessly with the toilet paper. It just didn't seem respectable to even try. She just flushed, washed her hands, re-applied some cherry lip balm and left. She trudged down the long hallway and let her mind wander to whether or not Aranea owned the entire complex. But she did offer Mituna and Latula a room to stay in…

She almost put her foot down to the first stair before a cold fingers tapped twice on the side of her shoulder. She gasped quietly, frightened not only because she took too long but because she didn't have a good explanation planned. She begrudgingly rotated her body only to be met with a most interesting sight. It must a late guest, she decided; a male's torso was covered with a loose, black skeleton jacket. Her eyes trailed down to see that he had matching, baggy sweatpants and light brown sneakers. _What am I doing? He must be pawfully confused._ She finally glanced up to a mess of curly hair that framed his long, painted face of grey and white. His full lips looked like they had been sewn shut but upon closer inspection, were carefully applied black lines. His strong cheekbones and jaw protruded, as well as his aquiline nose, but what interested Meulin the most was his droopy, wide eyes. They almost bore into hers with a soft and unreadable expression.

_Oh no._ she thought. _He's hot. _

The small flame in her loins rekindled. The more she stared at his strangely comforting face the more he became wood for her fire which cracked and fell on the proverbial rug, setting her whole house ablaze. It filled with something she didn't even think she needed, or would be attracted to, or even thought to give a second look at, but here he was. He then did something so unimaginably and unbelievably attractive that her knees almost buckled and her body tingled from head to toe.

He smiled. A smile so inviting, no man had ever _smiled _like that to her. Her breath caught in her lungs, eyes wide as saucers with clumped mascara and cherry-flavored lips agape. She could feel the fast thump in her chest and for a moment, nothing else existed. And that's when she knew she wanted him.

Wait, _what?_

His eyes glanced up and his body turned, which broke the powerful trance he had on her and she was suddenly aware that she was tipsy and that she was in someone else's house and also that it had now been twenty minutes since she had been gone. She tilted her body to see a very drunk Meenah wiggle her brows at the both of them.

"Yo, don't mean to break the love-at-first-sight fest happenin up here but I didn't invite you to just knot let me in on the action. At least let me get to that loud first."

Meulin's blush was so red she could almost swear it could turn green, if that made any sense.

"Oh wow Meu, I'm just messin witchu! Dag, my bad, maybe you need to smoke too."

And then it hit her. This wasn't a late guest. This was the most anticipated.

* * *

Meulin learned that everyone had moved upstairs to a vacant bedroom and, to her, it looked like it belonged to a motel; bare bones, with one bed on the opposite wall from the door, one huge window with its blinds closed in the center, a small drawer on the third wall and slender, wooden doors that most likely lead to a closet on the fourth. The beige bedding and carpet did look relatively clean. The most provocative object was a red light bulb in the center of the ceiling, giving the whole space a sensual vibe.

She didn't recognize the other two newcomers in the room. One was short, maybe even shorter than herself with his sweater matching the hue on the walls. The other, however, looked like a 1950's greaser. Everyone sat in a circle, waiting for all three of them to complete it. Sweater guy sat next to Greaser, who sat next to Latula, then Mituna, Aranea, Meenah and…the dealer.

Meulin shyly took her spot between the dealer and red sweater guy, with legs crossed to the side of her body while her arm supported her weight and the other held onto the edge of her now uncomfortably short skirt. Her senses were heightened and she felt the stare of the newcomers but her eyes paid attention to the dealer's thin, long fingers on a clear bag taking apart what looked like clumped up, green plant.

Glasses of liquor had been refilled and the party goers were more amiable with one another. She rubbed her supporting arm up and down as she caught a scent of something strong: spearmint purrhaps? Oh no, her cat puns were returning. A glass filled with brandy and apple juice was suddenly shoved in her face. She jerked her head away only to look at Meenah's gregarious demeanor and loopy grin.

"Go ahead and get fucked up with the rest of us."

She must have drunk so much, her fish puns were wearing off. Meulin grasped the glass and mouthed a small 'thank you'. Being careful with her intake, she imbibed only a fourth of the glass. Who knows what could happen when combined with what they were about to do next.

She saw the dealer take a thin, small, rectangular bag from Meenah's hand and snatch out a pre-wrapped cigarillo. Her eyes paid careful attention as he vertically cut the leaf cover with his thumb nails, like opening a patient for surgery. Next, he wiped off the tobacco from inside the leaf with his fingers in a small trash can handed to him, once again, by Meenah. But she quickly continued her conversation with her best friend, already used to his meticulous procedure. Meulin was too fascinated to look away. Her lips, as did her thighs, parted unconsciously as he licked the inside of the leaf with his surprisingly long tongue and watched as the paper opened itself to him at his command. The last step unveiled his cylindrical creation while he spread the loud evenly, tucked and rolled. It was as if she were experiencing something spiritual, the way he methodically handled something he probably had been doing all his young life. But there was another sensation it gave off, something lecherous and uneasy. Meulin shivered, suddenly feeling cold.

She saw his eyes looked to her as he licked the last edge slowly and flicked his tongue before he gave his attention to his pocket and pulled out a skull embedded lighter. It was the most arousing thing she had seen all night. The flame danced back and forth all around his masterpiece before he handed it to his customer.

"Coddam, Kurloz, you reely oudid yourself this time."

_Kurloz. _

Meulin let the name sink in, swirl around her head and let it make a cozy home inside.

_Kurloz._

"Ok, since everyone put in, excludin Meu because I fuckin say so, I will do everyone the honor of payin for a celebratory blunt and wrappin it myself. You're welcome."

Meenah's inebriated body softly planted itself on the carpet and the crowded room filled with humored faces and heaved chests. Meulin assumed it was because of laughter. She vaguely remembered what that sound was like, yet she did it, more often than not, by herself. She looked around with a small smile and wished she could actually be part of that again.

She sensed Kurloz's intense gaze on her for only a moment before him and everyone else paid attention to Meenah's less than elegant technique.

* * *

The first and second blunt were sparked and made two rotations. Some people sprawled out on the carpet or leaned on their arm, or their friends, or even the intensely hued walls. Meulin and Kurloz did the latter and sat farthest away from the circle of oblivious and drunk friends. She played with the hem of her skirt, using an old trick to calm her nerves and the barely touched glass was placed by her side. He, on the other hand had his legs far apart with one bent so his arm could rest horizontally on top of his knee. He angled his arm, took and hit and passed it to his demure acquaintance. She grabbed it from his fingers and inhaled gently. Sure, she wasn't completely pure. She had at least done some smoking in the past but that was neither here or there. But she realized how rusty she was when her small coughs turned violent and raspy. Meenah, with her head in Aranea's lap, moved her arms wide and clapped as loud as she could.

"Whoo! Go gurl, cough that shit out!"

She had completely forgotten Meulin couldn't hear her cheer of support. So she was stuck with a firm hand patting her back while she recovered. Welp, this wasn't a good start, that's for sure. She crawled over to a now identifiable Kankri, and he politely declined while he passed it to Cronus. She guessed this was why Meenah deemed him 'insufferable buzz kill', scooted back to the wall and sighed. She didn't feel any different than before; maybe she wasn't doing it right.

A small tap on her shoulder made her heart beat faster before her head turned towards _Kurloz_. He smiled again and pointed at his lips while he opened them. For a second she was confused but returned the warm gesture and nodded, getting that he wanted her to do the same, so she did. His lips were her focus while it hit the second blunt before they got intimately close to her own and exhaled. Amazement stunned her eyes and her breath, or rather _his_ breath, caught in her throat before she turned her head and hacked for the second time. He tapped her back once more and grinned, his sclera being consumed by the same red hue that stained the room. He must have gained some confidence.

* * *

It was fifteen minutes to midnight, and everyone was high out of their minds. While Kurloz stepped out of the room, most likely answering a business text, Meenah crawled, to the best of her ability, towards a very low-key yet bubbly Meulin. She sat close with a most amused smirk on her face.

"Ok so I know you have to have a thing for Makara cause I mean dag girl, do you sea the way he's been treatin you? I've never seen him give out smoke-kisses! I _know_ he's feelin you, little mama. I mean talk about big pimpin over here. You have him wrapped around your little claw."

Meulin, with little forethought, giggled and answered her.

"…You think so?"

"Oh shit, you _do_ have a thing for him. Wow this is too interestin. Now, if you both want to get together and do whatever that's totally fine with me and Serket. To be honest he's not that bad of a dude. He's actually pretty chill and is the number one salesman around so you wouldn't have to worry about bein associated with no broke ass, no, he's a hustler. And secondly I've been knowin him for a minute but if he does decide to do somefin creepy that you're not comfortable with you know you can always use those powerful lungs and any of us we'll hear you, alright?"

"Okie dokie!"

Meenah only chuckled, more to herself, and crawled back to Aranea while Meulin's eyes fluttered. She was filled with such a strange calm. It washed over her body and she felt her heart rate slow down. There was a joy in its subtle beat and rhythm. She wouldn't be a senior again, she wouldn't be nineteen again and she most certainly wouldn't know when she would party again or meet an attractive face-painting weed dealer. Even though people could possibly live more than one life, it didn't mean opportunities like these passed by even once. She was so caught up in thought that she didn't even notice everyone had left.

* * *

Meulin didn't know how much time had passed. There was an introspective reign that controlled her conscious and it let her dwell upon a familiar realization. Whenever there was laughter from a joke or a small whisper that formed a secret, her mind would never again be interrupted by these sounds, or any for that matter. And that small way of thinking had been keeping her comfortable all these years. But for this thought to evolve, take tangible form and dominate every part of her was nothing short of maddening. Even though she heard nothing, Kurloz Makara made every sound imaginable inside her mind and body. He reverberated tirelessly, without end.

She clawed sensuously at her thighs, wrapped in soft, forest green cotton. She licked her lips and thought of his own. Her nipples hardened underneath her bra and the soft fuzz of her sweater. The heat inside her smoldered and oozed like hot candlewax. She had never felt this way towards someone before. It was needy, brash and raw. Spontaneous characters she read in fiction came to mind and she thought about how they were portrayed with this feeling. It would engulf them, take over their senses and they would take part in relieving it whenever the occasion presented itself to them. She always thought, in real life, that this would never happen. She would be more cautious of people, more demanding of the status quo; to get to know someone and make sure they treat her well before letting them in, but it was too late.

He had just come back, closing the only entrance and the only opportunity she had to leave.

She looked around the room again, truly noticing the beauty of the walls and floor, stained with tints and shades of red. A dazzling, saturated maroon lit up every corner while a deep magenta covered the floor and a dark rust tone filled the crevices of darkness high up on the ceiling where she had let her control hover towards to never be seen again. She witnessed him approach her from the corner of her eye, and he looked up to catch sight of what had her so mesmerized.

He moved in front of her and kneeled, her drink captured in his hand as he downed it before he slid it away and put both knees on the floor and rested his weight on his calves and feet. His thighs parted while his back hunched so that his chin matched the height of the top of Meulin's head. A shaky sigh left her body before she moved her legs apart, not caring for what her skirt didn't conceal, and planted her feet on either side of his waist. Her back ached against the unforgiving wall, her arms did little to hold her weight up and her line of sight was practically taken over by his skeleton jacket, just like the first time she had seen him.

Suddenly, they were motionless. Her palms started to sweat and all she could see was that her chest was visibly the only part of her body that moved. Was he having second thoughts? Was she? Didn't this all feel right? She sought his eyes and saw that he had been staring down at her with an enigmatic expression. The ache in her loins turned into a deep throb with back arched from pain and lips parted from the sudden rush of overwhelming power he exuded.

His arm had risen and cold fingertips brushed the side of her neck before they extended onto her skin and curled. He held them there and caressed her earlobe with his thumb. She closed her eyes, shuddered and bathed in the sensation. She felt his other hand on the opposite side as it brushed away her locks and exposed her pallor before moving to the small of her back. Wisps of curly hair tickled her cheek and suddenly his warm lips pressed gently between neck and shoulder. Was she even breathing? Did it matter? Her mouth widened at the sharp pulse between her thighs and the tingle on her skin.

There was an abrupt, kinetic force that had finally consumed them both. He kissed her sternum and left a butterfly trail up to her throat that caused her neck to incline and small, breathy moans to escape. Her legs jerked and the heels of her feet lifted. He nipped and sucked away at her neck while his hands guided themselves across her body; squeezed her sides, roamed her breasts, shoulders, arms and legs. Her panties dampened with an impatient need that wanted nothing more than his affection.

She didn't know if it was her own internal bravery or the influence of various stimulants that caused her not to care. A left hand slid down his right arm and lay atop his. He froze; his lips grazed her skin with a sudden stillness. She moved it between their lower bodies and straightened his long fingers and palm that faced her, with her right hand. Her heart pulsated with eagerness. No longer was his lips placed on her and her pause allowed enough time to open her eyes and lower her head down but not dare meet his half-lidded stare.

She guided him lower, until she could no longer see their hands under her skirt and pushed his fingers up. She tried to not give in to the shock from finally being touched but rather focus on his widened mouth before he made words with their movement.

"Oh, _fuck." _

His gaze changed dramatically; its passion controlled any caution he had.

"Y_ou were all up and waiting all night for this, weren't you."_

His rhetorical question caught her off guard. Had she been waiting all night? Was it the drink, the sexual tension of strangers and the forbidden atmosphere that fueled her desire for release? Or did it really begin with him? Wasn't it his tenderness and allure? She bit her bottom lip, looked into his eyes and exposed all her feelings, as if to say '_It was you_'. She searched and waited for a sign.

That is, until his fingers pressed into her and moved upward. Her eyes unfocused and her teeth clenched while she drew a sharp intake of breath. Her brows folded upward, similar to if she were about to cry. His eyes scanned her with haste but only found pleasure stricken on her face and he stroked back down. Of course, not knowing just how her moans sound,

She was _loud. _

His eye slit and his nose scrunched at the sound he thought could very well pierce the mirthful heavens itself. His head moved to the side of her neck and he licked down and up with the tip of his tongue. It matched the motion of his hand and made a conscious rhythm of delirium on her body. His reward was her angled head and cries as high as a cat's mewl. Nothing, she thought, felt more divine than this. She would gasp, lift her legs and gently claw at his back while his left hand pressed on her arched one and his right made small circles on her clit with his fingertips.

Her head moved close to his hair; intoxicated with the piquant smell of spearmint and marijuana. She was lost in his noiseless rapture and _gentle _technique. It was just too much and she couldn't any more. The negative auxiliary verb was no longer an ability of hers.

"…Kur…loz…!"

Seconds later was her whole body lifted with a surprising amount of vigor. His arms wrapped around her back and her legs wrapped around his torso. He carried her to the side of bed and was lowered vertically by the window, while her lower thigh and calves dangled over the edge.

She kept her gaze on him and noticed his arms on either side of her that held him up. His lips were pursed and his half-concealed eyes pierced hers so _amorously_. They traveled lower to her neck which started to form hickeys. Her upper arms hugged close to her body, hands spread across her visibly moving chest. Lower his eyes went and noticed her legs spread on either side of him with her grey, pleated skirt wrinkled and hiked up. He licked his lips and she trembled. With a straightened back, he unzipped his jacket and threw it carelessly to the left of the bed. She beheld his lithe frame when he removed his black, form fitting t-shirt with one arm and rotated his neck while the cool air soothed his skin.

Wiry, but muscular, she concluded in her mind. His skin color was much richer than his achromatic face; a honeyed, sun-kissed tan which made her look grey in comparison. She also noted small specks of dark freckles all over his body, like an artist who flicked their paintbrush over the canvas with black paint. A man wasn't without scars and scratches, which faded with time, but a few placed on his abdomen looked a little too fresh…

Kurloz took the focus back to Meulin. He discarded his shirt and made her wandering eyes close to the feel of his cool hands under her warm sweater. She shivered and moaned at the hairs on his arms that caressed her supple stomach. He looked up and waited for permission.

She threw her arms up and angled her back. His hands traveled up and off the sweater came, thrown next to his pile of clothing. Her back relaxed and chest warmed as her body got used to the cool air. She flushed a furious tone of rosewood as he tugged his lips upward, approving silently of he her pale green, strapless bra. His hands, however, eagerly explored the sides of her inner thigh. He took pleasure in her arched back and delighted pitch before they moved to her hips and hooked his fingers in her matching panties. She lifted her hips and they also, were removed with haste and thrown to the pile.

She ceased her breath as he lifted her thighs with his hands and spread them until she was completely displayed. He hunched forward, his lips formed rare words once more.

"_Do you want me to make you motherfuckin' come?"_

Meulin breathed out a constricted 'yes' and her chest heaved with astonishment. She gathered her breath and tried to answer him properly but he had already kneeled to the floor. His hands outstretched her quivering thighs further apart and it was nothing short of a miracle that she couldn't see anything beyond her skirt otherwise she would have said 'no' out of embarrassment. So instead she swallowed thickly and focused on the dark shade of red on the ceiling.

His pointed tongue ascended in a long, erotic manner. Her lower back curved as she elicited a deep-seated gasp. Her eyes forced shut, hands balled into fists and her face wrinkled in the unbelievable sensation before she breathed out. His tongue darted in and out of her wet, vaginal walls, brows furrowed and paint already smeared across his lips. She muffled her heavy moans with one hand and scrunched a small wrinkle of sheets in the other. She couldn't help it if she cried out too intensely when he flicked his tongue across her clit. He pleased her like this for a minute or two before she felt a hand leave her thigh and lift the fold protecting her pink nub. He nipped at it with his teeth and noticed she twitched out of shock before he sucked apologetically and made sure she used both hands to soften her wanton cries.

One of her hands intertwined in his hair and god was it soft and curly. She massaged his scalp with her fingertips and she felt his moan through his lips. She fluttered her eyes open to see that the skirt had completely exposed her line of sight and his expression, stained with concentration. After a good moment he stopped entirely and her body relaxed, which started to form a light sheen of sweat.

Kurloz stood up and slowly leaned over her, put his hand under her chin so that he could make her face him. She peered at him with cloudy, lustful eyes…

…and he kissed her.

This was the first time his lips ever brushed on hers. It was, to Meulin, the ultimate gesture of compassion and tenderness. Once again, she inhaled his addicting scent and put a hand in his hair which earned her a deep vibration from his throat and his body embraced with hers. They stayed that way, she thought, for a remarkably long time, enough time for her body to cool down and for her heart rate to beat normally. She felt the controlled breath from his nose and it relaxed every muscle in her body. Eventually she felt his lips curve upward and she, seduced by his charm, felt compelled to do the same.

Meulin basked in the delicate and thoughtful position they were in. She knew she had never met this man in her entire life, and yet, in this moment he treated her like she had. Is this how he cares for all his women? How does such a generous man like him exist in such a sexual world filled with selfishness? She knew this was nothing for a hopeless romantic dwell on, or even humor, but still…

It was too late. The existential thought was buried deep into her subconscious as her mouth parted from bliss. His index and middle fingers invaded her arousal and stroked, which caused her eyes to roll back, her hands to claw at his shoulders and her gasps to be soft so only her _beloved_ Kurloz could hear them.

He leaned upward, straightened his body, put one knee on the bed so his weight was supported while the other was planted firmly on the fuchsia carpet. He lifted one of her thighs and his eyes locked with hers for a moment, not needing to exchange words but establish a mutual feeling of yearning.

His fingers pumped leisurely, creating a deep, dark red rhythm inside of her. She bit softly into her finger and moaned, fond eyes never leaving his. They could no longer focus when he caressed her g-spot again. He would never tell her just how much he wanted to be inside her in this moment because he could tell she wasn't taken yet and he couldn't be all up and stealing that when that shit wouldn't be motherfuckin' _special._

Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change of speed. Her heart raced and each stroke elicited high wails of pleasure and her face scrunched up with such joy and mirth that she decided to move both her hands on either side of her but tried her best to keep her cries constrained. She hissed, sighed, gasped and mewled while he became too horny to function and added a third finger. His strokes became firm, fast and irregular. Her gasps became tiny squeals and her misty eyes tried to make out his expression but to no avail.

"_I'm…I'm gonna…"_

She furrowed her brows and clenched her teeth. Her spine curved with hands, fingers and toes spread out. An intake of breath was drawn into her burning lungs before Meulin Leijon's sight was immersed in a plethora of coral pinks and rich scarlets. Her fierce orgasm made her ripped the sheets with her strong nails and only the pure white of her eyes could be seen while she spilled and dripped all over Kurloz's hand and bed sheets. Only after a few more seconds of spasms does her body finally submit to relaxation; muscles soothed, shoulders slumped, hips and spine straightened, legs dangled, fingers and toes curled naturally and eyes pulled away from the hue of visual passion.

Kurloz slowly removed his fingers from her and gently released her thigh on the bed. Meulin saw him shuffle with a few pieces of clothing from the corner of her blurry vision but her body still glowed from the after effects and left little room to care about anything else. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, feeling the muggy air lift her bosom and fall in the same soft manner. The cool atmosphere ticked her skin and left small goose bumps. She suddenly felt a warmed hand which lifted her neck and in its place left a small pillow. Meulin scrunched her eyes before she looked up at him and smiled sweetly at his obscure shape under tired lids. She felt his lips kiss her cheek and let the feeling linger before he mouthed to her.

".._I gotta dip…spill my wicked elixir before…here, aight?" _

Meulin couldn't help but laugh at her poor decipherment.

"I'm s-sorry Kurloz, I just-"

Hands covered her tired giggles as she swished her hand in approval. He nodded gratefully, trotted to the door way, but stopped dead in his tracks. Meulin looks intently as his frozen shape on the other side of the room as he tried to not make a sound when he opened the door, or so she hoped that's what happened. Soon Kurloz had sneaked off and she was left alone to recover from his fervor.

A few minutes passed by and she felt like her vision had sharpened enough to stand and clean herself off with the bare sheets. Might as well finish what she started. She put on her panties, but took off her muggy stockings and folded them on the nearby dresser, as well as her sweater. She couldn't help it and folded his t shirt, but first inhaled its amazing scent, before she set it neatly on the bed with his jacket. Lastly, she unwrinkled her skirt, balled up the torn and damp sheet, tossed it to the other side of the bed and sat patiently for his return.

And he did, and looked like he smoked five blunts all at once and came back from an overwhelming nirvana. He sauntered over to a still giggly Meulin and ran his hand over his hair. Meulin observed that the paint that was messily smudged from his lips and chin were now properly retouched, black lines and all. He donned his black shirt in no particular hurry. Until he saw the big, imminent stain on the edge of the bed that begged the question: 'where the absolute shuck did that even come from?'

Kurloz dug deep in one of the inside pockets in his jacket and pulled out a small, clear, fizzing bottle. He turned the cap, and proceeded to eliminate the evidence.

"Ooh! What're you putting on it?"

He found the scrunched up sheet as well, spread it out and put a little sprinkle on it. Then he walked over to his curious sex kitten and lifted the bottle to her face so she could read the small label in crude handwriting. 'Emergency Faygo: Moon Mist'

"Oh, I see! That's great thinking!"

He smiled and carefully put the small portion of the fizzy beverage back in the appropriate inside pocket, zipped it up, and put his jacket over his body.

"If anyone gets nosy about those rips, feel free to blame it on me."

"Aww…I couldn't pawsibly do that to you."

Meulin almost forgot about that, and her returning fondness for cat puns. Her sleepy eyes tried to give him an expression of gratefulness. She really did have no idea what she could use as a cover up. Spilled drink makes perfect sense. Rips in a perfectly good bed sheet required more thought.

Kurloz hesitated; an enigmatic expression once more written on his face before he bent down, leaned close to and gave Meulin a final, chaste kiss. She eagerly accepted and put one arm around his shoulder and the other in his hair as if to say 'Thank you.'

He was the first to break their bliss; her hands rested politely on her lap and she watched him as he strolled back to the door and opened it. Kurloz looked back, smiled and lifted his hand in a silent good bye. She did the same and he left with her alone with her thoughts and feelings.

* * *

"WHERE THE ABSOLUTE SHUCK DID THIS EVEN COME FROM?!"

"I'm so sorry! We were both drinking so hard and then we decided to mix Faygo-"

"WHERE DID YOU GET FAYGO?"

"He brought it from his parents-"

"HE HAS PARENTS?"

"Everyone has parents, Meenah."

"SHOOSH, THIS IS SEARIOUS BUSINESS. SO WHAT YOU'RE TAILIN ME IS THAT MAKARA ACTUALLY TALKED TO YOU ABOAT HIS PARENTS."

"Well…not exactly."

"Whale then WHAT DID HE TALK ABOAT?!"

"How Faygo was his favorite 'wicked elixir' and then I got too drunk and spilled it and you know how my nails can claw onto stuff when I'm sleeping so I'm really sorry and I will replace them for you and-"

"I DON'T CARE FOR THAT RIGHT NOW. WHAT YOU'RE ACTUALLY TAILIN ME IS THAT HE TALKED TO YOU."

"Yes!"

"AS IN HE FORMED WORDS AND MADE SHRIMPLE SENTENCES TO CREATE THE STRING OF DISCOURSE BETWEEN HIM AND YOU."

"Mmhm!"

"As in he actually said some shit."

"…Uh."

Meenah and Aranea had some of the most stone faced, incredulous expression ever written in the history of stone faced, incredulous expressions, while eating eggs and bacon. Everyone had left in the early hours of the morning. Meenah thought it was poor taste to bail without eating some of Aranea's home sea-red breakfast but since they found poor Meulin half clothed with questionable stains on the bed, it was better to bribe with food from the living room and interrogate than to not have any juicy gossip. Meulin just rubbed her bare legs with one hand, scrunched up in her green stockings with the other and wished that she could have fruit or something else. Her mind throbbed with troubled thoughts.

"Oh my cod tail us everythin."

"I did! I swear."

"You searious? That's all he told you? Aboat stupid Faygo? That is the dumbest shit I've ever heard. And I've heard some dumb shit."

"I'm sure."

"Meenah, let me explain. Meulin, you don't understand. Kurloz Makara, we thought, was actually mute. He's never said one word to anyone to our knowledge, even through the years Meenah and I have 'communicated' to him during his most generous transactions."

"…_Oh._"

She furrowed her brow in confusion.

"So, how did you guys communicate to him, then?"

Meenah rolled her eyes.

"Voodoo tribal dances, what do you think? We used Bubblr. So you are seain why this is a pretty big reel."

"Hehe, I guess!"

"Yo, this is no time to giggle. No gigglin. What did you even do last night? I couldn't ask anemone because they wiggled out of my grasp and left before I could squeeze any gossip out of 'em."

"Nothing!"

_Oh no_. Meulin gulped and tried to act normal.

"We just had Faygo shots and fell asleep."

"…That blowhole. That's reely all it takes for him to say somefin? A grey lady and some wicked elixir?"

Meulin blushed, pressed down on her messy hair and prayed that it covered the rest of her reddened skin.

"Ok but now let's be searious some more. Did you guys hook, line and sinker or what? Give me the deets, chum."

"Not really?"

"Knot reely…"

Oh god, what if someone sobered up and told other stories as well? Or worse, decided to post it on Bubblr!? Meulin's back stiffened at the thought. Oh what an embarrassing yarn she just tangled herself in.

"Also since you've now broken his somewhat 'vocal' bond of silence, you're probubbly knot goin to be well liked by his little brother if he finds out."

"…He's got a brother?"

"Oh I sea you guys didn't talk about family life and such. Yeah, he has this creepy ass bro who nobody likes and people clam he was part of a series of murders but like wow the guy is thirteen who is goin to cull, a clown or somefin?"

"I thought he worshipped clowns?"

"Worship, cull, it's all the same when you think about it, Serket."

Meulin had a lot to process. First somebody could have found out what happened and wouldn't tell until later. Secondly, she had been one to actually break more or less years of silence? ((/=`ω´=)/ Super score!) Third, now she has to deal with a potential psycho brother whom she hasn't even met yet?

And her senior year of high school was next Monday?

"But I mean hey don't worry about it too much just go home and sleep all this off. I mean dag I'm sure half of us got laid last night."

Aranea nudged her chatty princess in the ribs while a small blushed formed on her cheeks.

"No talking about sexual relations at the breakfast table, Peixes."

"Fine. 38I."

Meulin held her stomach and told them she wasn't feeling well, thanked her kind hostesses, and showed herself out. She guessed that it was back to blogging about f33lings and whatnot. It was going to be a long year.

"Meulin!"

She whipped around in surprise and faced a rather sleazy-looking Meenah with her head poked out of the doorway.

"You're a terrible liar. Just sayin."

And with that, Meulin, for the last time was left alone with her uncomfortable thoughts. She had a feeling Meenah didn't refer to her sudden sickness.


	2. Chapter 2

Author Notes:

OH HAY HOW U DOIN? I've got some spectacular news just in case you haven't figured it out by clicking on this second installment of the now-in-progress story I am about to continue: I have stopped being a lazy bastard! HOORAY! So, a couple notes for you dear reader:

I actually did plan to make this a longer story, like, a day after I posted LOL. I had so many ideas that just flooded my mind which gave me a rough direction as to where I could take this fiction. I couldn't pass up the opportunity! What I like to do is plan everything ahead of time so I know what I am about to write from beginning to end. It took me a minute to edit any grammatical and spelling errors and make sure all the misc. was taken care. (I tried, at least. I know there's going to be one or two things I will most likely correct later on.) Also wow Hussman, thanks for that long-ass wait for flash three! Sure did appreciate not seeing it you addicting fiend! PSYCHE! I will add the rest of the Alpha humans later on in the story. So those are basically all the reasons for the very long wait. Also, of course, I want to thank all of you who gave me reviews, favorites and follows! They are incredibly appreciated and I hope I can continue to try to be quality so you can enjoy the story! *u* Ok, yes, please accompany me along this long life journey! The usual warnings apply except less drank and smoke. One last thing; I edited the first chapter because there were some small errors that were just bothering the absolute shuck out of me, so there's that. I'm personally sick of looking that chapter over lol.

**TL;DR** Stopped being lazy bones; _LETHS DOO THIGS!_

Ok, have fun! And thank you for indulging me 38*

_Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie. I am not affiliated nor do I make any profit from this story._

* * *

Chapter 2: The Beauty of Dayspring

* * *

"Ugh. No."

Meulin lay lifelessly in the freefalling position on her lily-pad themed comforter. She had taken a four hour cat nap and had not gotten up since; clothes damp, ample hair askew, make-up smudged and mind still in a state of incredulousness.

"No. Please. I don't have any cans to give."

She lifted her head up to contemplate the time on her black analog clock which sat neatly on her wood dresser. It read eleven thirty-six am and reluctantly was she reminded of when she last left the party and trudged the long hill to her secluded apartment in the suburbs. In a desperate heap, she cat-crawled more steps up to her small bedroom, left articles of clothing behind and slipped into a coma.

"Mog, I'm not ready fur cute feels yet!"

The graceful, porcelain cat that was Mog had climbed up the comforter and caressed Meulin's jade sweater with her luscious hairs. Innocent orbs blinked at her distraught mother, who was fully awake. Meulin maneuvered her body sideways and allowed for her kitten to curiously smell her.

"I know, I know. I'm all stinky and I can still taste smoke in my mouth."

She scratched behind a pointed ear which made Mog expose her neck and close her eyes with joy. Meulin felt the soft pulsation of purring and saw her open her mouth which implied a 'meow'.

"Oh shush, you've had your days too. Let mommy sink deepurr into her hole now."

She pouted and her eyes trailed to the laptop that rested beside her clock. Usually, she would have already pounced on Bubblr to scroll merrily at people's blogs but no, not this time. She didn't even want to _look. _

Well, ok, she wanted to look, and post, and be merry. But the situation caused her to be melodramatic since irregular feelings like that didn't come often. She sat up, extended her arms and stretched which relieved slightly sore muscles. Mog was picked up by her belly with Meulin's right hand while she headed to her modestly sized bathroom across her room to look in the mirror.

"EEEEEEEEEEEE!"

She expected this bodily mess. Not wanting to look anymore, she paraded back to her bedroom and opened her closet by the doorway it to find her favorite wine-colored pajamas. Mog wiggled out of her grasp, landed on the beige carpet and scampered back downstairs where Meulin could be alone.

"Too purrecious."

The rest of Meulin's Sunday afternoon consisted of a shower while her fluff ball went crazy over her catmint scent and was fed. Meulin had two cups of cha'meow'mile tea from her favorite pink and black china set and watched episodes of different, fandom-oriented shows on her laptop. She even had the gumption to prepare her supplies for the first day back at Beforus High, which was seriously its name. How high do you even…?

By nightfall, she had successfully finished her clay mold of tiny, gray cones which sat on top of newspaper. There were several magic markers of a bright variety, paint brushes and acrylic sealer beside it. Fresh clothes were laid out on the dresser along with her pink backpack which was dutifully organized. While Mog snuggled in her warm cat bed, Meulin slept soundly with phone in hand set to vibrate around seven thirty in the morning. All and all she was detoxed and ready to face whatever and whomever might be waiting for her.

* * *

"Hey, water those weird, edible-lookin cones you got on your head?"

Meulin's grin was so wide Meenah swore she saw a crack in her face. She had just produced the finishing touches on her candy corn cat ears days after the school semester started. After two consecutive weeks, she couldn't even try to hold back anymore. Earlier in the Monday morning she had waited in Social Studies, then at break, and finally her Geometry class to find her two 'furriends'. With food tray in hand she was finally elated to know someone acknowledged her craft and left her regular cat ear headband at home. She sat down on the cold, picnic-looking table in front of Meenah and Aranea in the cacophonous cafeteria.

"EEEEEEE! DO YOU LIKE THEM? I worked on it off and on and I finally got done with them! I told myself: 'why not wear them today?'"

"Ok, yeah but what's the occasion?"

"Early HalloWEEEEN!"

"Oh cod, you're like a dam supermarket; you don't know when to start that ship early and when knot to."

"Oh shush Meenah, it's been like that for a while. Meulin, I think they're adorable! And it matches your tail."

Meulin covered her cheeks with her hands, warmed with jubilation.

"Thank you! I'm just so excited!"

"You know what I can sea why you are. Once a year you get to dress up howebber you glubbin please and rake in the delicious, free candy stash. I can't even be mad."

Meenah rubbed her hands together fiendishly at the thought of any national holiday endorsing confectionery socialism. Spread dem Mallomars around!

Meulin had become significantly closer to the animal themed pair since the end-of-summer party. Aranea often wore cute, long sleeved and tight fitting cobalt dresses with spider lace on the end, black widow themed jewelry and white cat-eye glasses which Meulin found ex-purr-nentionally tasteful. The only warm color she wore was red shoes, which everyone knew she was notorious for. Heels, sneakers, 8oots, it didn't matter! Meenah, on the other hand, wore more tomboyish outfits; dark colored t shirts, spaghetti straps, long sleeves that sometime would show off her fit midriff, and baggy pants with sneakers. That never stopped her from adorning dazzling, golden jewelry that fashion divas would kill to look at up close. Both aesthetically pleasing superiors took a slow but fond liking to Meulin's taste as well. Every day she wore her hand-made appendages of the feline nature, short sleeve over long sleeve shirts, skirts and shorts, stockings in every height and a variety of footwear. They eventually had to get over her fan-girl tendencies and high pitch which Meenah briefly recollected the time she used to bully her over freshman year because of it. They always met at the same place, shared different gossip and strengthened their 'frond-ship'.

And as it turns out, the night of the party was never brought up simply because everyone else was just as worried about their discreet happenings. Meenah simply stated that what went on in Aranea's apartment, stayed in Aranea's apartment and that worked well for Meulin! Truth be told, she still wanted to find out what had happened to their dealer that night; if he had ever come back, if they both still bought from him. Did it seem weird? Meulin just didn't know and swallowed the thought back down whenever it was tempting enough to bring it up. After all, she was home free so what was there to say? Nothing, except for the fact that one fateful weekend, when she had no plans, she lay in a comfortable, albeit heated bed with laptop open and wonderful explicit content exposed for her willing eyes…

…and the thought of _his_ fingers quickly replaced hers. She hadn't experienced quite a self-made climax like that in a few moons.

"Well, well, well. What brings you gorgeous ladies here to mix amongst the dregs of society?"

Meulin's muscles tensed up when Cronus, adding to the Halloween flair, pressed his leather-covered shoulder against hers while he sat. His right arm relaxed on the table while his left pretended to grease the side of his shiny mane. He flashed a smirk at an unamused Meenah.

"Whale, whale, whale. Look who decided to break their winning swim of knot payin any attention to us. I was prayin you wouldn't."

"Sorry to crush your pearl of hope."

"Yes, that's why you're the bard of hopelessness."

"Oh? And here I thought I was the_ prince_ of hopelessness."

"You can be whatebber you want, you're still hopeless. And get off of Meu! Dag, poppin all sorts of private bubbles."

Cronus inched away while Meulin breathed a small sigh of relief. She glanced over to him so she could read his eerily glinting lips. There wasn't much of a point if all he mouthed on about was his love of music, sloppy poetry and-

"Excuse ME, princess! I just wanted to know if you got in contact with toospooky-"

Meulin stifled her breath. Could it be…?

"-yet, he ain't answering my texts for shit."

"Yeh, I know. Too bad cause dat ninja missin out on mad scrilla. But hey, I gotta stop buying sometime to save up for my global domination. Why you need him? You got the hook-up, hell you _are_ the hook up!"

"Eh, it's not for me, it's for Captor. You know he can't really function without Latula around so he needs his fix now and then. And he doesn't really do well with mine?"

"I forgot she be attendin that preppy advanced school. Also, knot surprised."

"Rude. Also, what's due for art history?"

"Art history!?"

"I can answer that! It's a 3 page essay on the subjective and objective parts of your favorite artwork from the prehistoric era!"

"Oh jeez, I keep forgetting you both are the sensitive art freaks."

Meulin remembered Aranea was an aspiring writer and Cronus was an 'upcoming fail-sician'.

"Thanks, A!"

"No problem, greaser."

"Grease is the time, is the place, is the _motion-"_

"Yo, you betta clam the glub up before you get smackeral-ed the…glub up."

Meenah visibly winced at her bad pun while Cronus only shook his head in amusement.

"You mean: 'Pitches get stitches, harry knot-ter."

"Ooh dam, subtle music burn and sick fires. You too dope, Serket."

"I know."

Cronus fake-sulked all the way back to his own table, where Kankri spit the wicked bizz on his latest victim: Mituna. Sad drawings and incoherent expletives were involved.

"Anemoneways, speaking of toospooky-fo-u, are you ready to share what happened that one night _lejayjay_?"

"Huh?"

Meenah brows moved up and down so fast, they could have started a fire.

"Come on now_, gillfrond_, I've waited too long on account of Serket's eight wishes-"

"Hey!"

"-and the staggering evidence against you adds up. Your face lit up like a fuckin Christmas tree at the mere _suggestion_ of Makara. Lemminow the tee so this ta-tallating case can finally come to a close."

Meulin deadpanned at her half-touched food tray, deep in thought. She didn't know the common one night stand courtesy, but then again, did it even matter?

"Yes."

"Ok so-Wuh?"

"I…Yes."

Meenah furrowed her brows at Aranea, then back to the guilty party. Meenah finally understood what Meulin was trying to say. 'Yes, we did do something that night.' She thought it would be much harder to fish out such spicy information from the generous Mage of Heart!

"Oh my cod."

She inched closer.

"…How big was he?"

"WE DIDN'T DO _THAT!" _

A few wandering eyes laid themselves on Meulin and she flushed, utterly embarrassed. What happened to the unwritten pact that never left the apartment? What was she thinking, expecting any less from 'Her gossip- scension.'

"Oh."

Meenah rolled her eyes.

"That's lame. Whale then, what _did_ you do?"

Aranea couldn't believe they were talking about this in public but when Meenah leaned her head forward, so did she, which enclosed the circle of personal affairs. A curious tint of pink darkened her cheeks.

"Well…We just…!"

Meulin couldn't handle the pressure anymore. Her mouth curled, resembling the first letter of the moon alphabet and then proceeded to sign every letter there was, emulating internet key-smashing.

"Yeh, I ain't never gettin any laundry out of you sober. You're a tough feline to pet, Leijon, but let's knot forget who fed you the cream. You're welcome."

"Meenah!" Aranea exclaimed.

"What? I HADDOCK to throw in some fish and do SOME sweet-water talkin to him otter-wise he wouldn't have set one Juggalo foot back in that room and he would have carried his blue balls all the way back to Shangri-La!"

Meulin stuffed her face with a stale carrot. Maybe if she choked on it, this conversation could be over.

"Did he at least give you his dope boy number?"

"Um. No?"

"WHAT?"

The wandering eyes now lay on an irked Meenah.

"Sunuva…! He don't give out hook-ups to my fronds anymore? This is what we do now? Where's Mituna?"

"No, really, it's purrfectly fine if-"

"Uh, no, it's knot fine. He does knot have permission to do what he did and knot have the courtesy of giving you his number. I'll meet you in class, Serket."

"Fine by me."

"Leijon? You comin with me."

Meenah scampered around the bench, food forgotten and Meulin's wrist snagged in hers. They made haste all across the clusters of students who were about to leave for their final period of the day. Meenah had finally spotted the yellow helmet that belonged to Kurloz's only best friend, no doubt licking honey off his fingers from the jar in his locker.

"Hey tuna-breath, I need to get in touch with Makara."

Mituna whipped around with a heavy sneer.

"Well frist, how abot I Get in tuouh with dos magikal tatas of yours EHEHEHEHE-"

Meenah shoved his frail body against the inside of his locker. It was a good thing his safely helmet was on otherwise his body could have fit right in.

"I NEEd AN ADULRT."

"Listen to me, seared-brain! Don't think you can bass-talk me any type of way just because Pyrope isn't here to drone on aboat every excuse in the world as to why I shouldn't smack yo ass all the way to another timeline! Now this is regarding a very personal matter so you betta take out your shell phone and you betta GIVE me his number!"

"OKAE, I'M SORRY!"

"ARRRG! You're so lucky that you're sorta endearing."

Meulin felt bad for Mituna. Sure he had his brain problems, but that didn't mean he wasn't trying! Latula went to a more upscale, private school to challenge her studies in law, which was a surprising fact in itself. She wondered if _he _also went to a different school.

"But, I meen…Donn't you have hies number?"

"No, man, you-ugh. C'mere…"

Meulin cocked her head in confusion. Maybe there was more than one simply for safety percussions. That did make sense, considering his line of 'work'. They both huddled together and lips moved gently which Meulin most likely guessed was whispering. Then Mituna nodded, put his yellow cell away, shut his locker and high –tailed it out of there.

"Ok, don't worry we got this figured out."

Meenah rotated back to Meulin with amethyst-encrusted handheld open and keyboard being pressed away by her savvy thumbs.

"We do?"

After a few moments, she flipped it shut and flashed a mischievous grin.

"Ayup. You're gonna meet 'em under the huge pipe-looking bridge by the suburbs. You know the one people say is cursed 'cause they think this slender guy with long arms hooks you to this alternate dimension? Oh man, who thinks of that shit?"

"Oh! Ok, by the swing-set. I think I can recognize that park when I sea it! I mean, see it."

"Har har, my homonyms reign supreme! So it's gonna be after school, around three thirty. I gotta go float through another lifeless session of geometry. Glub to me aboat it later, K?"

"Ok! And thank you!"

"Thank me? I didn't realize you was lookin forward to da favor!"

Meenah 'wonked' at Meulin and strutted away knowing she fell into the trap but Meulin didn't really mind. Something inside her was bubbling with a strange excitement and she didn't know if it was the infectious, aquatic puns or the meeting of her fling whom she knew nothing of. Either way, she had a pep in her step and a tiny smile all the way to Chemistry.

* * *

Meulin walked straight home around three, took a light shower and dressed in a lime cotton top that cut off at one shoulder and flowed loosely around the pockets of her blue jean shorts. She slipped on grey flip flops, ears and tail, kissed Mog on her forehead, grabbed her keys and scrambled down six long blocks of urban area and radiant September weather. The golden orb in the sky glittered through tufts of clouds and highlighted the changing season in the foliage from apple green to tangerine orange. She finally reached her destination, 'Alternia Park', which was yet again seriously its name. Someone had crossed it out with a marker and scribbled on the bottom: 'Dube…What complete bulb shit. 8y'

There was grass that looked at least three acres wide. A swing set, merry-go-round and play area was closer to the curb but her final stop was the monstrously sized, concrete pipe that looked like it sunk in the earth in the center of the park. People could walk in and out freely but it was a little strange to meet her there when a swing could have clearly sufficed. Maybe this was the life of a dealer; always on the run and needed to hide from whatever authorities may be lurking, even in an open space for the community. She couldn't lie and say that didn't confuse her.

Meulin made a bee line across the playground and approached the darkened pipe. She peeked inside and saw a lone figure on the other side who sat down on the cool grass while being concealed in the umbra of shadows. She assumed it was him, seeing as outline of his body looked the same and waved, but he didn't react. So she approached. Cold grass tickled the sides of her bare feet and while she moved farther into the darkness, his figure became more distinguished. She realized, by the smaller body size and sharper, violently pointed hair that this figure was not _him _at all.

Instead of a jacket, this person wore a black t-shirt with a barely distinguishable white outline of a goat, matching pants that had small, purple polka-dots and black tennis shoes. The shades of green and blue disfigured his color choices. The person calmly stood up and faced Meulin, giving her a rather nasty shock. Never before had she seen someone look so vicious. He was the same height as her, his cat-like eyes were squinted and emphasized by the slightly messy Juggalo paint spread across his face. His mouth curled in a way that seemed like a smile but felt like scorn. And there were three, rigid, indigo lines that diagonally violated his face. She knew they weren't real, but it looked intimidating nonetheless.

Who the trail-blazin' cat hell did Meenah set her up with?

She saw the stranger move his hands and arms in a familiar manner, one that communicated a certain visual language.

_Sign_ language.

'What is up my sister?'

She cocked her head to the side; Sister? What did it matter, he was signing her lingo! She beamed at him and responded.

'Nothing much! My name is Meulin! But you probably know that already.'

Too bad there wasn't an effective way to use her cat puns in sign language.

The mysterious stranger bent his body and took her hand in his. His skin was cold as ice as he shook it, but he never let go, instead he stopped and pulled her arm which led her body away from the cool shelter of the pipe and into the warm sunlight.

"Wooooah! Didn't know I'd be all up and conversing with a kitty-cat! Well ain't that the motherfuckin' bitchtits!"

_What._ She blinked before she realized he was referring to her candy corn cat ears. It was the first time somebody had actually gotten the symbolism, even though to be fair, was pretty obscure. She giggled and engaged him verbally.

"Thanks! How did you know I use sign language? Did Meenah tell you?"

"Aaaw yeah, sis! But she also let me know you and my bro get down with the wicked sickness! Well, any fine pussy-friend of his is a motherfuckin' friend of mine."

Pussy-friend? She let that one slide for the time being. This 'relative' was so animated. He moved his hands all around and shuffled his feet. It was like he was a tiny cartoon character, or better yet, an amusement clown.

"Thanks! Actually, I was wondering if you knew where he was. All of his furriends are furry worried and haven't heard from him in about two weeks."

"Word? I JUST saw him handlin his fuckin' bizz, snatchin up honk-traband because he was gettin dry. Not only that, his real job got him all stressed out and sleep-deprived. It's a good thing he got my ass as a backup. But don't tell nobody I said that cause he likes to keep things hush-hush, you know?"

"I understand!"

Job? Did he have to work to support himself? Where was his family? What about school?

"Man, it's getting a little chilly. Do you mind if we post up on the happy swings?"

"Nope! I actually wanted to do that when I got here!"

Well at least one wish came true. They walked over silently to the playground, at least she hoped so unless he was still talking but not making eye contact. She briefly glanced over and nope, nothing but that dorky grin on his face. She kicked her grey flip flops off her feet, sat on the swing and swayed gently towards the bright, blending hue of baby blues in the sky. So many questions popped into her head but she didn't feel like it was appropriate to ask.

A finger poked her side and she kept the attention over to her cheeky, unnamed 'brother.'

"So how you up and know my homie, huh?"

"Oh! He was at a party me and my fron-uh, friends threw a few weeks back. He supplied us with a couple things."

"Oh, aight. And now you want to see him again?"

"Well, he hasn't been answering texts so they sent me to find out what was up."

"Oh. Well he is known for runnin' game but never speakin'."

"Can I ask why that is?"

"It's against his motherfuckin' religion. Actually it's against mine too but it doesn't matter becAUSE OH FUCK!"

Suddenly her Juggalo 'brother' sprang to his feet and turned his body animatedly, away from Meulin.

"I forgot about my motherfuckin' pies!"

He turned back towards Meulin, equally as puzzled, and pointed a finger at her.

"Yo, you like spearmint?"

_Spearmint._ Suddenly her nose was reminded of a tart and refreshing smell that permeated the senses and reminded her of a cool breeze or an untouched blanket of winter. It was _his_ scent.

"Yes, I do."

"Then let's head to the crib. You ain't tasted shit unless you've had one of my 'Sopor Pies'!"

Meulin agreed, stood up, put her flip flops on and accompanied him side by side.

"What's a 'Sopor Pie'?"

"Aw MAN! Of course you ain't never heard of one; I created that sucka myself! Sopor Pie: So good, it'll knock you the fuck out!"

Meulin slowly enjoyed the company of her dopey companion. She wondered if all Juggalos were like this; gregarious but cool.

"Are you a chef?"

"Nah, my ass had lots of free time up in the bake house at my rehab center."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. Oh damn, where are my motherfuckin' manners. Just up and forgot to introduce myself."

He walked faster and turned to face her, hand outstretched again.

"The name's Gamzee. I live with 'Spooky Senior' up the hill and if we're lucky he'll come back early from his job and pay us a visit."

She accepted his polite formality and shivered a second time at his temperature.

They continued to walk further down the street she came from. There were coffee shops, a video rental center, some restaurants and the like, until they turned a corner to up an incline. Great! Just what Meulin needed; more hills.

"So, what school do you go to?"

"Not a school. A correction facility."

"Fur what?"

"Well you've heard all about those fuckin' murders involving me, haven't ya?"

"I don't think so."

This sounded a little familiar. But that involved a small thirteen year-old, which if she recollected was supposed to be _his_ brother, but this guy couldn't be him. He was too tall and didn't seem to look that much alike, besides his hair. His face had a more puffy shape with a sharp, pointy nose and a wide mouth.

"Oh. Well…my family tried to kill me."

Her heart skipped a beat. This conversation went in a direction she wasn't sure she felt comfortable with. But she had no choice, his piercing eyes stayed in contact with hers as they walked slower to compensate.

"I acted in self-defense. I was way too little of a motherfucker to realize what I had done, but luckily my brother, or half-brother I should say, wasn't anywhere near the scene. Word got out, press was all over me, I spent a few years of my pathetic life in a box full of other pathetic motherfuckers in they own box and that was that. Now I live with Kurloz and I'm just waiting to see what my final judgment will be. I mean, I did my fuckin' time and paid my dues, they should know it wasn't all my fault, it fuckin' wasn't…"

Gamzee seemed to talk to himself more than Meulin. His lips scowled at the ground and his eyes looked forward with contemplation.

Meulin realized that the brief rumor she had heard about wasn't true. _He_ didn't have a small brother but was housing a delinquent of another. Her heart warmed at such a selfless act of sheltering someone who committed, she thought, a very scary act. To trust them in his home was nothing short of courageous, but possibly stupid. Meulin decided to give him the benefit the doubt.

"So…Why…"

Her curiosity always got the best of her. When would she realize it's best to not scratch further into the post of uncomfortable matters? A familiar cat-related proverb came to mind.

"They thought I was possessed."

Gamzee shook his head, looked at the ground once more, then back to Meulin.

"Aw fuck, I'm sorry kitty-sister! I didn't mean for this convo to go sour."

"No, it's fine! I really don't mind. People say that I'm a great listener."

Meulin then had to think hard about that statement. Gamzee surely didn't know she was deaf and neither did _He_. Or did they? Maybe she should keep it to herself until she got to know them better.

"That's whats up. Well, home sweet home!"

Meulin turned her head towards a small, two story brick house. Shrubs and plants covered the corners while the small front yard looked like it hadn't seen water in a few weeks. Gamzee walked up the white-boarded porch, fumbled with a few keys and opened the door.

"Welcome to my humble fuckin' abode, most foxy one!"

Meulin teehee'd and entered while Gamzee held the door open. She noted the lively smell of spearmint that once again flooded her senses. Their house was quaint and big enough to fit a family of four. There was a coat rack by the door, which she took great glee to see the skeleton jacket that hung on it.

_Maybe he's here!_

She looked around and took in the personality of the first floor; a brown, ripped up couch was posted on the left wall with a purple love seat positioned by its right armrest. Its purpose was to see the sixty inch flat-screen television and a small, burgundy rug that had juggling pins and clown horns scattered over it. The closed window above the brown couch had cream colored blinds and an array of different scented candles with all the wicks burnt. Behind the love seat was a wooden table with mauve place mats and behind that the small marble kitchen. The walls were bare, but only a few crooked, framed pictures of rap groups hung in the living area. To Meulin, it seemed like a living space where two frat boys up and moved in with little possessions to decorate.

She walked over on the tile floor to the kitchen and identified the potent scent that came from shamrock colored confections in pie tins that cooled off on the counter. Is this what Juggalos ate all the time? It was like she was forced into a new culture and forgot to look up any information beforehand.

She turned around and saw that Gamzee had mouthed something in front of the stairs that led to the basement. _Kurloz_ arose, back facing Meulin. His curly locks were disarrayed and he wore a white t-shirt, dark grey sweats and no shoes. Gamzee looked like he was saying something else when two burly men followed behind. A strange nervousness clenched her heart and made her stance frigid. They both had shaved heads and black, baggy attire. Kurloz had opened the door for them and but the second one, she figured, sensed her presence and turned to hold his gaze at her.

He looked like he was in his late twenties with no paint on his face but his dark eyes scrutinized her frame and questioned her relation to the familiar in the room. Kurloz had noticed her too by his stare and feigned indifference but the guest had stepped out the doorway and left an awkward tension when the door was finally shut.

* * *

Meulin created lines across the frosting of her dinner with a metal fork. The 'Sopor Pie' as Gamzee called it, didn't look very appetizing. In fact, it just looked like a plain mint green cool whip pie with graham cracker crust, but Gamzee was already on his second slice. Meulin realized by looking at the sides of his own that there were more ingredients than she thought.

Kurloz sat down across from Gamzee while Meulin sat on the end of the table, or rather the 'guest chair'. He didn't bother making eye-contact with anyone while he ate and sipped at his forty ounce.

She decided that if nobody talked after this first bite, she would call it quits. The air seized the strong tension from earlier and never let it go. Nobody had said a word to each other after what happened and it made her question her presence. She politely cut the smallest end, poked it and put in in her mouth. She experience deja vu and expected a rather foul taste.

"Mmmm…!"

Her shoulders lifted at the tart taste of peppermint but the graham crackers and chocolate chip that got into her bite melted in her mouth, as did the cool whip spearmint frosting.

"Aw yeah, lil mama, get your motherfuckin' grub on!"

She giggled lightly and cut herself a larger piece.

"It's so good! How'd you make it?"

"I just experimented with my heart and finally whipped myself a fuckin' miracle of a recipe. I think it's a blessed gift from the mirthful messiahs themselves."

Kurloz looked up at Gamzee with an angled head, giving a less than friendly glare.

"Is that so?"

"Oh man, bro, that seminar they spit today? Fuuuuck, I could have passed out all the way to next year!"

There was a looming silence. Not because she couldn't hear it, but because she sensed it. Weird emotions churned around like spoiled butter and it twisted at her gut and made her feel nauseous. Gamzee glanced sharply at the thrown fork on Kurloz's plate. Meulin saw the gesture too out the corner of her eye and looked at him.

He looked _pissed. _

Kurloz's hands and arms made wild gestures, familiar ones that made Meulin's eyes gander with wonder and her mouth open in surprise.

_He knew sign language too!_ No wonder Gamzee could communicate to her, he had to have known for the sake of Kurloz and his odd religion.

Gamzee started to move his arms, and she focused on his sharp movements.

'Stop getting your underwear in a twist!'

'No, fuck you! You didn't even warn me about this!'

'Yes I did! You don't check your messages!'

'Because I came home early to make sales, and you knew I would. Do you know how long it takes for me to establish a business with those guys? Fuck, you are so inconsiderate-'

"Excuse me."

Both Makaras turned to their apprehensive guest, feud forgotten.

"Aw, I'm sorry kitty-sister. You didn't need to see that."

"It's fine. I just…"

Kurloz got up from his seat and curled his finger at her, then pointed to the exit. She nodded, politely got up, felt the attention of Gamzee's eyes and tried to ignore it when she shuffled her feet to the door and opened it. She noticed the pale colors of evening blended together to make a small sunset. There was really no point in trying anymore. Obviously a person like Kurloz wasn't it the position to have many outgoing friends like her if he was to maintain his illicit life. Does he even remember her name?

How naïve, thinking he'd want anything to do with a one night stand.

She felt a small tap on her shoulder, turned around and noticed Kurloz wore his signature jacket with arms straight and hands deep into the pockets. The door was closed behind him and he looked forlorn. She saw his chest heave lightly that indicated a sigh, looked around for any peeping eyes through the blinds, pulled out his phone and pressed some keys before handing it to her. She looked at the screen and it read:

'I'm sorry.'

She looked thoughtful for a moment. Then looked up and gave him a small smile. She gave the cell back to him and moved her arms and hands in a manner that read:

'It's okay.'

Suddenly he seemed more disturbed than melancholy.

'I didn't know you knew sign language.'

'You never asked.'

'So then, you knew what we were signing.'

'I tried not to be nosy.'

'It's all chill. I'm really sorry about what happened in there. My brother never told me when you would show up so you caught me off guard.'

She nodded, paying careful attention to his hand movements. It was the second time she had actually knew someone who did sign language that wasn't a teacher or translator. She didn't have a lot of people she knew who could do it because her hearing loss was recent.

'No, I'm sorry. Meenah had set me up with him because she wanted me to find you because she misses you.'

Kurloz had a look of pure skepticism, but put on a knowing face and signed back:

'Never in the nine years of me knowing Peixes, has she sent for somebody to tell me that she missed me.'

Meulin could only mouth a small 'oh', caught up in her white lie.

'Hey, it's fine. Usually people aren't up to chasing me or getting to know a ninja because they find me too creepy or because I don't talk.'

She didn't even think about that aspect. She didn't know too many people who knew sign language for the hell of it. And would she have even approached him if he looked like the way he did now? It was all coming full circle. Meenah set up the bones and knocked them down for Meulin to pick up the pieces.

'But you did talk to me, didn't you?...'

Her hands hesitated, but she signed her next words carefully.

'…that night.'

He nodded, his eyes half-lidded with a hidden fondness.

'Yeah, I did.'

'Why?'

Kurloz's eyes found the ground interesting but held cogitation. And then he just shrugged and looked back up at her.

'To be honest, I have no fucking clue. You have to have a good judge of character in my line of work so I mean, you just…It seemed right. It was what my heart was telling me to do, and I don't usually disagree with it. I'm not sure if that made sense…'

Her body shivered but would never have been seen because of the dark shades of navy that encompassed the earth.

'No, that makes perfect sense to me. I think listening to your heart is very important.'

She then was aware her fandom cliché instincts were coming out and pouted. Kurloz chuckled.

'Well, I wish I could make this up to you. If you want, you can come back inside and maybe we can all just finish eating.'

'I would love to, but I have some homework I need to finish later.'

'Alright.'

Meulin smiled. So he apologized, explained himself and even offered her to come back inside? Maybe he wasn't the type to push away. Then she thought of Mituna. They were best friends after all. Maybe he wasn't as low key as she thought. Her feline bravery pounded in her veins, they seemed to yell at her: Go for it! What do you have to lose? You are a Leijon, so prove your worth!

'But maybe we can get together later?'

His face lit up, even with the lack of chroma.

'Yeah, I would like that. How about this weekend? My brother won't be around then.'

'Ok! How about-'

Her hands froze and her heart pattered in her chest, not from bravery, but from a small anguish. Kurloz stared confusingly. Meulin tried to form some sort of coherent thought or explanation, but to no avail.

Gamzee was a Makara. He _was_ Kurloz's half-brother. Kurloz didn't even know she knew all that information. But wasn't it common knowledge? Would it even be right to ask so early in the beginning stages of acquaintanceship?

No, it wouldn't. So she kept it to herself and signed again with shaky hands.

'Sorry, I thought of something important. Would you like to hang out on Saturday?'

'Sure. I'll be ready around nine thirty.'

'What about your customers?'

'For all they know, I'm dry. That's why I haven't been answering calls.'

'Oh okay.'

She didn't know a lot of drug vernacular but that must have meant that he didn't have a lot of supplies to sell.

'Don't let it bother you. Or, do, I guess, but at least tell me when it does.'

'It doesn't bother me.'

He smiled which warmed her spirit and let her know he was at ease.

'Do you want me to walk you home?'

'No, I'll be fine. I'll see you then!'

She put her hand up in a silent goodbye, as did he and they both went their separate ways.

* * *

The four days that followed, Meulin's excitement went from level ten up to ninety-nine, but barely showed it. At lunch, Meenah had asked how it went with Kurloz's brother, but Meulin only told her that they talked but Kurloz wasn't available due to low inventory.

"Das cool. Sometimes you got to decide which is more important; payin bills for the fam or payin for weed. So, how is the tiny twerp? I haven't seen him in a fat minute."

"He looked good to me. Also, I heard from him that you knew Kurloz fur about nine years!"

"Nah. I knew Lil Makara before I knew him. He's like your extended family. You know he exists, you know he got hook ups but you don't know a dam thing about how he lives or what he does. Our frondship is business-related and never has been nothing more. Sure we can party from time to time and I know he cool dude and has had a lot of stress on him due to the fuckery of his bro. Maybe that's why I still buy from him. Dag, he's like another Mituna. Oh well. So, how about you and Spookers, huh?"

"SO, how about you and Aranea, huh?"

"…"

Aranea smirked, knowing that was Meenah's second weakness only to fish puns.

"Checkmate."

"Shut it, Serket. Makara must have said too much. You win this round, Leijon."

Meenah put her hands up in defeat and Aranea blamed the royal glubbing gossipers for their blessings over Meulin, who only smiled at her luck and thought of the shipping implicatpuns. Cronus and Kankri came over to pester them all at some point but they all went to their evening class and after school Meulin told them she would be out of town for the weekend.

They had absolutely had no idea she was going to visit Kurloz on the third Saturday of September. She couldn't bear it if miss guppy-lips had glubbed about her meeting with the whole school.

She had rushed home to ready herself: first, a nice, long bath with plenty of scrubbing salt. Then a layout of her outfit; A simple, green t-shirt with a pocket on the right side of her chest and a small, pink heart in the center, capri jeans and cream colored ballet slippers with pink bows on the front. It seemed casual enough but still left little to the imagination with its figure hugging size. How she stayed so small, the world may never know. She then finished a small piece of chemistry homework she knew was due for next Monday.

She brought out the automatic cat feeder and put it in the kitchen, beside the entrance of the apartment so Mog could happily feed herself when she needed to, along with a lily pond watering fountain. This was for when she knew she would be gone for a while and didn't want to leave her poor darling stranded. Mog's favorite blinds were also open in front of the large cream couch in the living room so she could people watch. It was cute, thinking how curious of the world she was without wanting to leave.

Meulin was the same way, but the more excited she got about the situation, the more she realized she wanted to get out of that shell. She wanted to explore more emotions and let more people in. It had been so long since the 'accident' that she had locked all her emotions away and settled for a more calming, private life earlier in her years. But thing were changing.

At least she hoped.

Saturday morning came, and with a light breakfast of buttered wheat toast and tea, she grabbed her small book-bag filled with keys, phone, a notebook and markers to doodle with, toothbrush and paste, emergency outfit and a small washcloth. One could never be unprepared for this type of thing. But as she trotted along the hill that led to the Makaras she started to slow her speed then eventually stop with a blank face.

What was she preparing for? This was the beginning act of friendship, wasn't it? Why was she so caught up in possessions necessary for a late night? Didn't she want to take it slow?

She began her ascension again, entirely confused about what she wanted.

* * *

She was in front of Kurloz's porch again and stood there for a good amount of time. The uncertain thoughts she pushed back into her consciousness manifested. What was she doing here? What did she really want? She wanted friendship, yes, but what about those other feelings she felt swirl inside, feelings of want and intrigue? Not only that, this was their second time meeting. Would she really stay in this man's home? Meenah did know him for long, but that didn't mean she knew his everyday life, in fact, that's exactly what she told her. But didn't people go to others houses when they had brief flings of passion too?

When one has had their fingers inside another the line of affiliation was severely blurred. She could imagine hearing Meenah's booming voice: 'Just bang on the dam door already!'

And she did. Not a minute later did she see the lock turn and the door open to reveal her object of turmoil.

"What's good little candy corn kit-kat!"

Meulin's breath let out a giggle at the nickname and the reference to her now proclaimed 'troll horns', which adorned her head. While she could have lived without her beloved blue tail swishing back and forth on her bottom, which she indeed wore, she couldn't very well leave without her prized creation for pre-hallows eve.

She entered the humble brick home again in the same manner Gamzee had greeted her. She guessed that's where Gamzee had learned his manners. Kurloz was more clean-cut today; his hair looked tame and curly as ever with the same pattern of paint on his relaxed features; his black shirt had a little skeleton man who looked like he was dancing, with loose blue jeans and grey socks. She also noticed that the crooked pictures were straightened, the horns and pins were put away in crates and the house smelled more of cotton than 'sopor'.

She felt extremely welcomed.

The blinds were closed, barely letting light thorough, but it gave the whole place beautiful highlights of calm blues and dark browns. If she looked close enough, she could see motes flittering all around the rays of sun. The romantic aura in the air was sucked in her silent, inner vortex of confusion.

She felt a polite finger tap her shoulder and she looked to her side, noticing that Kurloz might have slept a little later than he should have. His eyes looked droopier than the first time she saw him.

"Sorry if it's too dark for you. I just don't dig a lot of light when I'm tryin' to wake up."

As if on cue, he yawned but held his mouth to his hand and cut it short.

"But you best be believing a motherfucker is all excited for this morning!"

"Don't worry! I'm not a morning purr-son either."

His lopsided grin got bigger at the endearing pun.

"Uh, well there ain't much to this crib. I only got my flashy entertainment center, the bossed-out cooking station where a bunch of little voodoo dolls make all my favorite foods at my command but my personal chef don't know about that. He's a lazy bastard anyway. The only thing he's good for is pies. Man, I ain't tryna eat pies all the damn time!"

By this time she was snickering. Obviously he was referring to his absent relative.

"Did you eat?"

"Mmhm!"

"Ok, good. Dolls are on break anyway. "

Meulin wiggled her toes and looked around his house again, curious eyes lingering a little too long at the stairs that led to a basement, or so she thought. Kurloz walked over to the top step, looked back and curled a beckoning finger at her. They both descended down and she felt the hardwood floors underneath her slippers, holding on to the wooden handrail and noticing a closed door with a sign that got clearer as her foot left the last step. It was the name 'CARLOS' in bold black letter on white paper, crossed out and instead the name 'Kurloz' was written crudely on the bottom. He turned and signed to her, knowing it would be too dark to read lips.

'I could never find my name on anything.'

She faked a sympathetic face. How cute was that!

He grabbed the amber, rusted knob, turned and opened the view of what Meulin was so eager to see.

His room, for the most part, was shockingly normal. The walls were white with a few posters of the 'Insane Clown Posse' on one wall and one poster of the famous hip-hop rapper 'Snoop Dogg' but the last part of his name was crossed out and instead replaced with 'lion'. His queen sized bed, had nothing but black sheets and comforter with grey pillows and was located on the top right side of the room. Again, Meulin had to stop her small chuckles because the size was identical to hers. An open laptop sat idly on the bed, plugged up to the wall below a plastic nightstand. It held a small, innocuous looking skull head and a polka-dotted analog clock which read nine forty-five am in red letters. Beside that was a small work-desk that had small hand written scribbles of 'honk' and ':o)'. She casually walked across the cream carpet to the white, faux-fur rug that lay in front of his dark brown wood dresser. Small articles of clothing poked out from an open drawer; a checkered shirt here, some black jeans there. Her attention, of course, was gained from the little white voodoo dolls that sat atop. There were twelve in all. Some leaned on others, and some were hunched over lifelessly. They had no faces, or features but held little sewing needle with colorful beads on the end. She looked over to him and smiled tenderly.

"Did you make these?"

"Yeah, in my spare time. I like to call 'em chuckle-voodoo dolls."

"Why chuckle-voodoo…"

She no doubt started chuckling and he pointed at her with a clever expression. She nodded, got the small hidden joke and looked over to them again.

"They're really cute."

She saw him approach her side. His arm outstretched in front of her, grabbed a particularly small one with a green-beaded needle and handed it to her. She grabbed it gingerly and looked back at him.

"Really?"

He nodded and she pressed it close to her face, imitating a childish hug.

"I'll put it back. I don't want it to be squished in my backpack."

"I'm sure he appreciates that."

She looked back to her new voodoo pal and set it back on the row, now with hands behind her back.

"So what do you want to do?"

"To be honest, I really didn't have this day planned out so we can do whatever you feel like or we can just, fuckin'...kick back."

_Kick back_. That could potentially involve the outdoors but then again.

"Actually, I have something to tell you."

"Lay it on me."

"I…I sort of told efurryone I would be out of town this weekend. I didn't want to tell everyone where I really was beclaws-"

Kurloz put a hand up, knowing face once again exposed to her.

"Meenah puts a goddamn damper on my plans too. That's why we ain't that close. I understand."

Meulin released a breath of relief, but that meant she couldn't really go anywhere with Kurloz and because Meenah lived a few blocks away from Meulin, and she only a few from him without getting caught. So, that left only one question. What could they possibly do on this lovely Saturday morning filled with sunshine and life?

Why, watch TV shows, of course!

"Would you be interested in having a show marathon with me?"

"Aight. I was just havin one myself yesterday!"

"You do that too?"

"All the time, kit-kat! Uh, I don't have one of those fancy plugs for my TV to make my computer screen hella big so can I just put it on my desk?"

"That's fine!"

He moved said laptop to the center of the desk and they both sat on wooden chairs that really weren't that comfortable but she ignored the forewarning from her back to witness his fingers type in his password to get to his desktop. What came up made Meulin 'aww'. It was a picture of a chunky baby wrapped in a lavender blanket as it slept.

"Oh wow, who's that?"

Oops. Curiosity's going to kill her one of these days.

"I mean-you don't have to-"

"It's the ol' cook slave himself."

She looked again, more with a straight face. That cutie puffy cheeked infant was Gamzee?

"But don't tell 'em. This is for collateral purposes. He still hasn't given me my motherfuckin' drawe-uh…yeah, he just has something I would like back."

Meulin smiled again, relieved that the family dynamic wasn't as bad as she made it out to be in her head.

"So, what we watchin?"

She eagerly extended her arms and hands to put up an internet screen and typed in 'watch sailor moon online for free with subtitles'

"Damn, you bootleg too?"

* * *

Faygo bottles of many flavors were scattered on the desk, eventually there was a huge bowl of popcorn that had been devoured, some plates from home made sandwiches, candy wrappers and corn dog sticks. Meulin's notebook had been taken out of her back pack and little notes and scribbles were made for Kurloz's viewing on the desk, which he flipped and rotated in a comical manner. Of course, he didn't go through the day without sparking one up, but she declined and wanted to enjoy herself while being sober.

It had been roughly fourteen hours and he was hooked.

"Ok so…Zoicite is a guy."

"Yep."

"But they made him into a chick in the Anime?"

"Yes! The English version."

"For what?"

"Well, it's sort of a children's show back then so they couldn't really show blatant homosexuality like that."

"Ok. But was she flat-chested in the…Meng…The, uh."

Meulin laughed at his innocence.

"Manga? Yes, she was. Beclaws she was a /guy/!"

"Ah fuck! Forgot that quick."

She put one hand to her face, hiding her endearing smile. He had only smoked hours ago but the small fits of amnesia came and went. Her shoes were tucked away beside his bed and her calves now rested on his lap. She had complained earlier in the marathon that her lower back didn't feel so swell so he suggested she turn and next thing she knew he had rotated her body for her.

And she didn't mind one bit.

"You just want to see what happens! Isn't it so addicting? And I still think Usagi should totally hookup with Rei and not boring Mamoru."

"What? They don't like they asses and you know it!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh."

"Nope."

"Better believe it, kit-kat."

She flushed at her sticking nickname.

"They will always be my OTP!"

She blew raspberries at him and he snorted while she took the notebook from his hands, grabbed a green marker from the messy desk and put a question mark by his own negatively oriented ship.

"Hey, you can't tell me they wouldn't make a horribly good tragic story."

"Yeah, but… Naru deserves some happiness and Nephrite can't even remember her name every-single-time he sees her!"

"And you just described the premise."

"Aw man!"

Kurloz gave an animated shrug and smiled at her while she pouted. Who knew this day would lead to a marathon of girly kick-ass heroines and discussed shipping. She started to realize that her plan was actually working, so much that it wasn't really a plan anymore. It was becoming something more natural. Like she could sit and talk to him for hours about her silly fangirl-ism and it would genuinely feel like he wouldn't be bored or irritated with her…like her other friends were too afraid to say.

Her right hand leaned over to press play again but she stopped short. Her lips puckered and her brows scrunched in pain before she let out a small whimper. Her left hand went straight to her lower back and she caught a glimpse at Kurloz's concerned face.

"It's that chair again isn't it?"

"Yes. Ugh, how do you do it?"

"C'mere."

"Huh?"

He picked up her bare legs, set them down gently on the floor and patted on his lap.

"Come on."

She looked at him, not knowing how to respond. But her body guided her up and shuffled to his side. His hands slid onto her waist as she slowly descend and took her new seat.

"That better?"

He had forgotten she couldn't hear him, so he grabbed her chin and turned it so she would get the hint. Luck would have it; she couldn't fully turn her back either so he was stuck with her pain-stricken face. She decided to rotate her body so at least she could sit sideways.

"Sorry. It still kind of hurts."

His left hand lifted and made small circles on her back as she sighed in relief. The release of pain was too great for her to notice that he moved closer to her face. She turned her head and warmth filled her chest. She saw that heavy smile and lidded eyes.

"I give some fresh-ass massages."

She was in pain and got too caught up in the flair of Sailor V and the unveiling of the Moon Princess to say anything but now it was just too much. She didn't care if someone rubbed her back with the pole of a broom, if it worked, it worked. Plus, who was she to say no to such an opportunity? She answered him and never knew that her pitch had automatically settled into a murmur.

"You don't mind?"

"If I did, would I have asked?"

She turned her head away flush turned darker to his amusement. She got up and he maneuvered to the lower end of the bed. He patted the empty space in front of him and she sat with one leg bend on the comforter and the other planted on the floor. She felt his limber hands move her hair to her right shoulder and slide down to her side, as did the other. His thumbs pressed on her lower back and her head moved down, welcoming the comfort.

He eventually got tired of using the same movement so his hands spread out and grazed to her upper back making small caresses. Meulin's head elevated to reveal her unwinding demeanor. It didn't matter if she had the worst back pain in all of history, Kurloz could do whatever he wanted and she would thoroughly enjoy every feel, stroke and movement. His nimble fingers moved up to her trapezius muscle and squeezed. Her shoulders hunched and she hummed cheerfully.

"Feels good….!"

Kurloz's left leg, which was on the edge of the bed, moved behind Meulin's body and bent beside her waist with foot to the comforter. She felt the tingly sensation of breath on the back of her neck which gave her arms goose bumps. His hands made a delicate trail of pressure to the bottom of her back, then back up. Her body reacted automatically with a curved spine and a breathy moan. With attention like this, any woman would forget that they made questionable sounds for a man to be aware of in his own home.

His right hand fanned out and pushed onto her chest where her neck was forced to lay his right shoulder. It took her several moments to process the closeness between his face and hers while she knew he could feel the steady rise of her heartbeat. In one swift movement his teeth had grazed gently over her earlobe and she felt the sound of a gasp leave her own. Her eyes moved all around the room in frenzy and ceased her breathing. The situation escalated too quickly for her to react in an elegant manner. The she felt him lap the edge with his tongue and it was pretty much over for her brain.

She craned her neck and her hands curled on the comforter. She felt his hands go to work again but this time they moved up her sides. Fingers brushed her ribs as her chest widened and squirmed from anxiousness. Her body reacted quicker than her mind and she was caving in to her usurping desires. Her face practically glowed when he began to suck and bite on the sensitive flesh and almost sparked a need inside of her when his hands dangerously traced the underside of her breasts. Was it too late? Was she almost done with herself to the point where nothing could help? He bit and squeezed and suddenly bold words ignited in her mind amidst the scribbling chaos.

_Establish your __**friendship!**_

She gasped. Her hands quickly covered the top of his and her face turned to face eyes overflowed with ardor and lips parted and smeared. She felt the painful appeal of messing them up more with her own, tangling her hands in his hair and feeling the vibration of-Meulin, no!

She breathed heavily, which mingled with his and created a tangible sexual tension.

Kurloz swallowed, moved his head down, removed his hands from her waist and chuckled. One hand balled to a fist and moved to his chest making a small, circular movement.

"My bad, Kit."

He looked up. An awkward grin stuck to his face, put a hand through his hair and rubbed at his neck, not knowing what to say next.

She then realized that he wasn't the effortless charmer she thought he was. In fact, it made him simply adorable. He did indeed cave to lasciviousness but there was something about the way he knew what she wanted to say and instead of trying to confirm it by speech, he simply backed away. He was respectful.

She moved closer to him, head looking up at his and she smiled tenderly.

"It's okay. I feel better now, thank you."

He nodded and flashed that signature smile, the one where she knew he was at ease.

"Hey. Since you saw more than enough of my favorite childhood show, I think you should pick a show that I should watch!"

"You don't want to finish the season?"

"I've seen it more than enough times and I think you've suffered enough."

"Naw, Kit. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't have definitely told you six hours in."

She laughed and was comforted by the light atmosphere that was placed in the room again.

"Have you heard of the Doctor?"

"The Doctor? Doctor Who?"

He nodded eagerly.

"Oh! Isn't he the guy with time traveling powers and that cool, floating telephone box? Bubblr goes crazy with that show, but I haven't gotten started watching it yet."

Kurloz dead-panned and his expression imitated the reaction of someone who had just showed him a video of his most sacred religion being put to shame.

"That is complete blasphemy."

He got off the bed, walked over to his desk, grabbed his laptop and sat it down beside him.

"We are watching the first fuckin' episode right now and you will enjoy every fuckin' second."

Meulin looked lifelessly across the wall behind him and put her arms up like a possessed zombie.

"As you wish, oh great bootleg master."

He snorted as he typed on his laptop. Then he crawled over to the edge of the bed with pillows and fluffed them on the wall.

"I think this will be better for your back. Don't want it to hurt again."

She moved beside him, slipped off her candy corn ears with tail and set it on the table beside the skull and rested her head on the side of his shoulder. Half way through the first episode, his body shifted lower on the bed, so that he was half laying down than sitting up and she moved with him.

"Emm Oh Gee, Rose, just completely disregard your boyfriend to go with a time lord over to a Ferris wheel."

Kurloz poked her side. She squealed and looked up at him.

"We ain't even done yet. Don't make fun!"

"I am so making fun."

She grinned and put her head back down and hand bravely gripped and his amazingly taut bicep and felt tiny goose-bumps. He was definitely stronger than he looked. She briefly looked at the laptop clock on the bottom right corner. It was around twelve thirty in the morning and she didn't even know she tired herself out on eating popcorn and reading subtitles, or maybe it was the sweet smell of spearmint he permeated before she knew it, she fluttered her eyes closed and drifted to sleep.

* * *

Meulin awoke with a start. Her head lifted as air automatically filled her lungs. Her eyes slit and adjusted to the small blur from deep unconsciousness as she let out her breath. Her eyes trailed the dark sapphire contours of the foreign room and landed on the window above the nightstand. It had to be before dawn and the neon red numbers on the clock confirmed her suspicion. She wanted to lay her head back down on the soft pillow and drift to a deep slumber again but something didn't feel right. She didn't remember being in this position and this was certainly not her room. She scrunched her eyes and turned her head to the right, getting a glimpse of Kurloz's wavy tresses.

And then she remembered.

She moved her head back to normal and painstakingly lifted her body with her lower arms, rotated it with her legs on its other side to see Kurloz's head turned away from her on a grey pillow. His body, however, remained linear with what she assumed was his night wear; a grey shirt with his arms folded loosely across his athletic torso and baggy sweatpants. She must have slept through his movements as she saw the laptop was nowhere in sight and knew her pillow had been moved under her head. She kept her head up with hair tousled and leaned her neck forward to see his darkened profile in the most peaceful state he had been. _Poor thing_, she thought. His religion must cost him a lot to not be able to remove his own face paint in front of others. Not only that, her clothing had remained untouched and he was courteous enough not to disturb her. That or she really had been lethargic.

She put her right elbow on the firm pillow while her hand balled into a fist and kept her head up. It was rare to really study a person when they knew someone was looking but now she could freely examine what she couldn't that fateful night. The navy shade that progressed outside turned into a soft teal and made his dusky skin and hair glow. Her eyes noted the slight bulge of his collar bone and the steady rise and fall of his chest. She had felt his strong muscles and hairy arms before and wondered if he could survive with her in a murky jungle deep in the night.

The tips of her left fingers trailed against her thumb as she contemplated moving the bangs out of his face. She would love to feel every single curl bend and undulate against her skin and form back in its original shape. But no, she would get carried away and risk disturbing his precious dreams. So she settled with day dreaming about night hunts, where she could pretend to be a vicious hybrid of feline and human. She would lick the sacred blood from the kill off of her fingers and sharp nails, enjoying the taste of metal and the cool wind on her bare frame while her mate would skin and carve the meat. How glorious her imagination could be when it ran wild, so to speak.

Horizontal flares of light finally emerged and brightened the room which embraced the final signs of sunrise. Meulin scooted closer to Kurloz, feeling nippy from the basement air. She lightly put one hand on his warmed bicep and a bent leg settled on his lap, wanting to cuddle before the brightness threatened her solitude. But it was impossible. Her thigh lifted from shock and her eyes boggled at his wrinkled sweats.

_Morning wood._

She had completely forgotten that male phenomenon existed and chose to keep her leg next to his while she breathed and steadied her heart rate. Would it even be right to wonder how that even happens in this moment? Was he having a pleasant dream? The real question was, did she want to find out? She had, for the most part, rejected his advances last night. He was straight forward while she gave into his charm and at the last minute declined what she secretly yearned for. But camaraderie and familiarity were the forefront of her mission. She couldn't possibly have such a casual relationship with him or anyone else without it. Maybe her friends were right; she was compensating her desires.

Her sudden honestly with herself made her feel better but for some reason pulled at a heart string. They did have a few things in common, and what they didn't have they liked anyway. Her bosom warmed at the thought and gave her confidence. Her eyes never left his face as her hand hovered above his waist and lowered to the main source of confliction between want and need. It rested, palm and fingers felt wrinkles of cotton and sharp warmth underneath.

He liked her, didn't he?

Her heart beat in her chest and she licked her lips. Her palm traced the protruding shaft, from the side of his waist all the way back. She felt it twitch which made her pause in slight fear but eventually moved again. She wondered what it was like for him to watch her that night, to please her and think of her need first before his own. She shifted her waist and swallowed, thoroughly tempted by her erotic appetite. Her fingers, which were expanded, now curled against him and added to the forbidden sensation. They moved with a steady and discreet pace.

The radiated light now suffused throughout the whole room and made them visible to the human eye. Intimate warmth spread throughout her loins as she caressed and explored his waist line. Her skin got in contact with his lower abdomen, the tips of her fingers moved back and forth on his smooth skin. Of course she had forgotten about his face, but if she didn't she would have noticed his parted lips and barely exposed iris.

Curious hand moved back to his now fully hardened erection and she became bold with her movements; long strokes were accompanied by small squeezes and circular motions. Eventually, she had moved her fingers to the tip, caressing while her eyes closed and reveled in the sensation. How was she to know it felt just as good to give as it was to receive? A firm hand clutched her wrist and she breathed sharply through her nose with eyes open and head vertical. She barely had enough time to register that his hand was on her when she stared at his upwardly angled face. His brows grooved in the center with teeth clenched and pupils glossed over with delicate frustration. His lips moved and her heart fell in her stomach.

"_Don't tease __me."_

She was speechless. What would be her next move? This was the first time she had ever done this to a man. Suddenly the more rational part of her brain kicked in with worry of inadequacy and lack of deliverance. But she couldn't ignore that wanting face and the dull ache inside her. Something had to be done. She pulled her wrist away from his grasp and used both her arms to lift her torso up. One hand ran through her messy hair to keep it out of her sight and both moved to each side of his sweat pants and stopped when they touched the waistband. She remained still. Her heart pounded so fast it made her breathe through her mouth, but thank goodness he had a sense for hidden emotion otherwise she would have been posted there all morning. He used his own arms to sit up, pulled down the unwanted article of clothing and tossed to the wooden chair by the desk. She was infatuated by the Byzantium color on his boxers and the crinkles which shaped him proudly. His back was hunched and gaze was clouded with lust, waiting for her to come forward.

So she did. Her eyes never left the black comforter as she crawled over on all fours and sat on her calves beside his waist. A modest quality took over her limbs but the deep throb in her loins fought for domination. She didn't meet his hungry gaze that begged for attention but instead put her hand against the cotton folds and squeezed gently. He rolled his head back with eyes closed, then slowly it came down until his forehead landed on her shoulder. She shivered at the sudden contact. Fluffy hairs tickled her neck as she felt his soft breathing on her shirt. She had to do this, to give him what he didn't have before. That thought alone gave her the intrepidity she needed to pull the band of his boxers and grasp at his firmness.

Her gentle strokes on hard flesh were far from experienced. At some point she found the courage to make small circles on his tip. His hands were occupied with her waist and squeezed hard while he pressed his lips under her collarbone and felt the deep vibration of his voice. She kept at this for a while until his hands slithered under her shirt and required her to put her arms up as he eagerly lifted and tossed. She quivered at the cool basement air, looked up at him and became hot at the libido in his wide eyes. He lowered his boxers, fully reveling himself to her and he pressed his forehead against hers which forced her to look down. His hand spread out her palm and fingers and curled it around the base. The languid pace was set and his hands caressed her shoulders and back.

She noticed his abdomen tighten from the folds on his shirt or his hands would briefly stop their physical expression of gratitude when she would move faster or take time to caress his tip again. A small amount of pre-cum appeared and she was reminded of how wet she really was. She put her free hand on top of the other, lips pursed in a deep concentration and felt his hands squeeze her shoulders in approval. Her eyes looked up to see his own closed with a look of deep, conflicted desire and she bit the side of her bottom lip.

Suddenly he leaned back. His left hand lifted his shirt up to the center of his collarbone, eyes transfixed on hers and nodded in place of encouraging words. She moved faster and felt the cool sensation of liquid drip on her fingers. The fingers on her shoulder moved to the soft, nylon center of her pale pink bra and pinched. She froze and shuddered, face creased with agonizing pleasure from finally being touched. But no, she told herself, this won't be about her.

She stroked as fast as she could and he couldn't help but loosen his hold and let his hand caress her side before it held her voluptuous hip. His head, pressed against the wall, exposed more of his raw emotion. His lips parted with teeth clenched and jaw tightened. His cheek lifted and wrinkled his eye when suddenly his shoulders moved back and neck craned as Meulin blinked and trembled in surprise at the reach of his orgasm. If his shirt wasn't lifted, it would have surely held stains all over. Her hands were not so lucky but she didn't mind and instead kept her enamored stare on the relaxation in his eyes that focused on nowhere in particular with shoulders slumped and head tilted to the side.

She kept him in his grasp and finally let go when she felt like he was coming to his senses. Her hands interlaced with each other, not wanting to touch or ruin anything. His chest expanded and he sighed in bliss before he slowly moved his body off of the bed and staggered to his doorway. She shifted her hips once more, trying to quell the overwhelming heat which now threatened her very sanity. The mental image of his euphoria played over and over in her mind.

He came back properly clothed, sat beside her and kissed her forehead while he cleaned her fingers with a small washcloth. She looked up at him, expecting some sort of snarky commentary about her choice of sexual advancements but all that he mouthed was.

"Sorry."

Her eyes softened and her lips tugged upward. Once her hands were wiped off he discarded the cloth on the nightstand, flipped her over on the warm bed and made a trail of soft kisses on her chest, down to her abdomen. She breathed out in pleasure, back arched and hands already caressing his hair. But she had to discipline herself. Would she throw her control to the wind every time he seduced her? There had to be a limit somewhere. She tugged softly at his hair and he looked up, seeing the movement of her head drift from side to side.

"No?"

He looked confused and a little disheartened but she nodded and let go of his hair, which she honestly didn't want to. He moved back up to the bed and lay on his side, put one arm around her waist, closed his eyes submerged in his post-climax. She looked to him and wondered what he would say next but nothing came instead of the peaceful rise and fall of his chest.

They lay like this for minutes. She twisted the tips of his winded strands before he leaned over to kiss her lips.

"You hungry?"

She smiled and nodded. Kurloz struggled to keep himself upright when he sat up and left once again to head upstairs. Meulin curled her body, her only source of heat gone and focused on terminating her sultry need while her nose embraced the scent of bread and eggs.

* * *

The emergency supplies were needed after all. Kurloz and Meulin ate a brief breakfast together at the table and she changed into regular jeans and a navy, long sleeved shirt with freshly brushed teeth and slippers on her feet. She stood outside and stroked the faceless cheek of her voodoo doll and shifted her weight from side to side. She couldn't stay any longer. At least, that's what he told him and made the small excuse that her four year old cat would make a fuss. But in reality, the situation of their second foreplay had sunken in the rippling waves of her mind like a battered ship.

He walked over and asked if she had forgotten anything or if she wanted to be walked home. She told him she would be alright and he stared at her with wistful eyes before she put her hand up in goodbye and hand signed to him a thank you for her new possession.

And thus she started her long trek home. But it was her mind, which blocked out the gorgeous view of autumn and light that made its own odyssey. The small mission she had for herself had failed. Instead of having a manifested conclusion about what she wanted, she had given in to what she wished for thus convoluting the blurred line between their questionable relationship. Now, she could only conclude that he thought she wanted nothing but his body instead of his mind. Her pace slowed down the hill and stopped at the bottom to acknowledge the bustle of the boulevard.

She pressed the small, white voodoo doll close to her hurting chest. What had she done?

Her body turned right, crossing the street and was about to step into the shadow of trees and elevated earth but stopped short when she saw a long shadow in the corner of her eye. Kurloz had jogged over to face her but he put his hands on his knees and bent his back in a sweaty heap. She turned to see unlaced combat boots on his feet, black jeans and his familiar jacket zipped up.

After a few moments he looked to her, soft smile on his face and his hands moved in a tired motion.

'Let me see your phone.'

She pulled it out of her pocket, not all that thrilled that he wanted to communicate in this manner, but handed it to him and he started to decipher the layout before finally typing in with concentration. He took a step forward and handed it back, pointing to the screen.

There was one number with the name 'RYDAS' on the side and he pointed upward so she would see arms move once more.

'That's my business number.'

So that was it, he came all the way down to see if she wanted to conduct business with him. She swallowed and nodded with no particular emotion on her face.

His hand pressed a downward button to see a second number with the name 'MAKARA' on the side.

'This is my personal number.'

Meulin stared at it for a moment, the temporary sheen of ice that threatened to cover her heart melted in a sorry puddle. She felt his fingers caress upwards on her cheek and his thumb trace the outline of her lower lip. She glanced up and he smirked, eyes glistening with a triumph. He trailed her cheek with his fingertips and finally retracted his arm, she feeling the small tingle that it left behind.

'Contact me anytime.'

She was speechless. She couldn't sign with phone and doll in hand. So he put his hand up in another goodbye and made his way across the street, and up the hill where golden rays of light cast his long shadow and blinded her eyes from his dazzling aurora.

A few minutes passed. She pressed the 'ok' button on her phone so the numbers would stay in her contacts and safely put the phone away. Her doll was held gingerly in both of her hands, eyes now blossomed, her small smile gradually widened with nose flared and teeth shining brightly. He wouldn't have given her both numbers if he didn't like her just for her body right? Right?

To put it simple; Meulin pulled a Peixes.

"EEEEEEEEEEE_EEEEEEEEE!"_

She skipped and hopped down the cool relief of trees from the morning sun, head lolled and dizzy with pleasant thoughts.

'Gosh golly gee whiz oh me oh my I have _numbers_!'

Gamzee Makara had just walked from the other direction, looking upward into the annoying glare of the sun and back at the galloping vixen who kept her brother's attention. He squinted in her direction and made his way up the hill, pensive thought taking a dark form. Surely he won't the main antagonist of this developing relationship.

Oh _no. _He will be so much more than that.


	3. Chapter 3

Author Notes:

**_BOO! _**HOW U DOIN? IT'S CHAPTER THREE: SPOOKYWEEN EDITION! AW _YUSS_! Here are some notes for you trick-or-reader:

As a polite regard to the use of ASL in my past chapter and possible future, I am just going to caption it like TV shows do. I hope you don't mind! Trying to authenticate it doesn't do much for the scenes and I want to focus on the pace and emotion of the story. As regard to the antagonist, I want to be blunt about it simply because no other character will have more of an impact to the development of Kurloz and Meulin's relationship than Gamzee. It just makes sense to me and there's really no point going further into it and saying "SURPRISE: Makara bad guy alert didn't see that one coming, did ya?" Pfft. Anyway, I take inspiration from the many stories I've read on this site involving the same antagonist but using certain writing devices to dissect and convey them in different ways. I've always appreciated that as a reader so I guess you can say I'm taking a risk! Alas, a writer is not without her serkets so stay tuned! What you will have to look forward to in this chapter is the turning point of the relationship which establishes the pace for development, more details between the characters and of course, some good ol' fluff. Basically it answers a lot of questions. Who doesn't like that? Anyway, everything still has all the necessary warnings! And goddamn that updoot was a game-changer so def. expect all trolls to appear properly next time! Thank you all for your encouraging words and bountiful support! It makes me all warm and fuzzy and I hope this chapter holds your expectations! *u* Again, the editing isn't perfect but will be corrected later on when my vision stops bouncing. A last regard to the content: there will be a significant difference between Kurloz and Meulin and don't worry you'll find out what it is without trying to look too hard. All I can say is that everything I put here has its significance, will be touched upon more and help me break down the innocence of Meulin. If it is not your thing then I sincerely apologize, head-canons and all. Regardless, this was planned beforehand and I will still continue on with writing how I want this story to play out and, uh, I guess I had a good run? LOL.

**TL;DR: **OH DAMN HOMIE! DIVIN' IN WITHOUT READING THE NOTES? LOL YOU ARE A BRAVE SOUL GOOD LUCK HERE HAVE SOME GOLD STARS. _FLUFF, EXPOSITION, HALLOWEEN GALORE, HELP YOURSELF!_ Seriously, take it, I don't want it anymore!

Ok, have fun! And thank you for indulging me 38*

_Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie. I am not affiliated nor do I make any profit from this story._

* * *

Chapter 3: From One Abnormality to Another

* * *

Meulin Leijon didn't know whom to confide in anymore.

The lights were off. Mog was fast asleep and huddled around the warmth of her khaki fleece, circular bed. Meulin, however, was huddled at the corner of her connected bedroom walls on her comforter. She was dressed in red-violet cotton pajamas with back stiff, legs bent and arms enclosed around them. She shut her fatigued eyelids and recollected when she felt her 'friendship' with Kurloz Makara had taken a sharp, distressing turn.

Her heart pounded with uneasiness and one of her hands brushed away the unkempt strands of hair in front of her face. The deep navy ambiance of her room, only illuminated by the slits of light from her closed blinds, made it the visual equivalent of the rift in her emotions. It was ominous and complicated but still managed to grasp onto a ray of hope.

Meulin straightened her arms on either side of herself, carefully lifted her body toward the edge of the bed and tiptoed out of her bedroom. She was used to knowing how many stairs there were in the late hours of the night and it didn't take long for her to turn left and flick the kitchen light on. The brightness caused her eyes to avert but she moved close enough to the microwave on her right to make out the neon red numbers in the corner of her eyes.

Two o' seven in the morning.

She trudged over to the right side of the kitchen, bent down, opened a wooden drawer and grabbed a pot, filled it with water, slid her feet back by the microwave and turned on the stove. There was nothing more relaxing than making a cup of tea in a midst of mental confusion. She opened a cupboard above the stove which was filled with small cups and variations of teas, spices and herbs. It reminded her of when she would come home after school and smell a delicious cooked fish filet, homemade sushi or tuna melts.

She grabbed her favorite green mug, an opened packet of chamomile tea and sat on a black stool in front of a rectangular granite countertop in the center. She was careful to position her body so that she could keep an eye on her water. Wooden spoons hung from walls that looked untouched for months. Drawers and shelves stored unused cooking supplies. If there was one thing she missed more than anything in that moment was her mother. She would put fresh slices of melons on a plate in front of Meulin, swat the long hairs out of her fretful appearance and wait till she spilled out what was bothering her.

But she wasn't here nor would be until the spring of Meulin's graduation. She moved temporarily to a different state because of work and told Meulin the pay would help financially support her college funds. For all her mother knew, Meulin had moved in with her friends but that was certainly not the case; Meulin had decided to stay in their two bedroom home to maintain her solidarity and peace. It was the only space that kept her calm and let her be able to keep up her happy-go-lucky façade no matter what.

There were times when she needed to be alone to actually express her untapped feelings. Her mother and she kept in contact though letters and texting to make sure they were both alive and healthy. Meulin would draw doodles with write speech bubbles for fun on the weekends and scan them into her laptop for her to see. Sometimes Meulin knew being face to face would have been significantly better because her mother was the only person she let experience her whole set of emotions and she knew she could depend on her never telling anyone about it. But who was she to express herself to now? Who would be her outlet?

The water started to boil.

She took a few steps toward the stove with mug in hand and tea packet inside, poured the bubbly hot liquid in, rotated the dial to 'off' and sat back down to twirl the white string around. It wasn't like her to feel this way; to wake up late and fiercely demand motherly conversation but since Kurloz Makara had wandered in her life she was beginning to ponder adult behavior that she didn't understand and was well beyond her romantic wisdom.

Was she really too young, or maybe just inexperienced? She glared at the microwave clock again and became aware that it was technically Halloween. Happy Halloween to her, she supposed. Her elbow touched hard granite and a cool hand covered her warmed forehead. Meulin Leijon once again retrospected the past five and a half weeks, starting with the second week of October.

* * *

"Miss Leijon!"

It was Friday morning on a school day. The devious, jade feline who donned a long-sleeved sweater, bleached orange capris and black ballet flats peeped shyly at her geometry teacher. 'Mr. Sourpuss' as she nicknamed him loomed in front of her desk and created a shadow nobody could miss.

It had started two weeks ago when Kurloz had fatefully given Meulin both his numbers. In the beginning he was the one who initiated the first few texts while Meulin timidly answered back whenever she could. Usually it ended up with him asking how her day went and when they could meet again. He said his schedule would be filled with Halloween preparation from his job as promotion manager, which she now knew was for some Juggalo-oriented nightclub. They had agreed to meet somewhere in the middle of October so while she patiently waited, Meulin decided on a whim to watch a little more of the popular British TV show he and everyone else on Bubblr were so enthralled about.

Thus the domino effect was executed. The reaction texts and animated mimes practically overflowed his phone. They discussed the various alien species, real-life themes through the author's commentary on humanity and, of course, the fabulous shipping between the protagonists. Once in a while Kurloz had to politely assure her to 'wait 'till season two :o)' and to 'calm thy tits!'

The problem now was that whenever she would watch an episode she felt compelled to not wait until after school and to text him in the morning during her most unanticipated class. Kurloz made the mistake of doing that when he was bored a with club meeting that involved his 'coked-up dipshit of a boss who's stuck in a motherfuckin' time capsule but he still liked anyway'.

The forest green customized handheld had been clutched in her hands under the wooden desk, which she thought was discreet enough until her wild snorts and sporadic giggles had fallen on deaf ears, the joke being her very own. She had never been in trouble at school quite like this.

Said geometry teacher outstretched a brown suit sleeve and curled his fingers in a beckoning manner.

"This is the third time, Miss Leijon. You know the rules."

She cringed and eyes briefly glanced at the school clock behind him. There was only fifteen minutes until lunch time? Oh, why didn't she just wait!? Oh yeah, because Meenah and Aranea would have poked and prodded her with their forks to death. They still didn't know it was Kurloz she was communicating with and she'd rather see her handheld be thrown at the wall filled with posters of geometric fractals and assignment notes than to let them glub glub glub to the whole neighborhood. It wasn't any better than what her 'asshat' of a teacher was about to do.

'Mr. Sourpuss' stiffed his upper lip and tapped his foot in impatience. Meulin sighed and dropped the phone in his wrinkled, stubby hand.

"Alright, let's see what was more important than compliment and supplement angles, shall we class?"

Meulin placed herself in the front row in order to read her teacher's lips, which she was amazingly well at doing, and to take notes. Just goes to show how much she knows about being discreet with the main squeeze. It was nice that she could avoid all the stares she had gotten from all five rows of juniors and seniors.

Mr. Sourpuss adjusted his glasses, put the handheld close to his face, squinted and started to read aloud:

"Rydas says: did you watch episode eight yet? Ninjette says: yes with an abundance of exclamation points. I cannot believe how sad and compelling it was I actually burst into tears. Rydas and Ninjette then both proceed to send each other an exchange of animated images which involve graphically designed tears. A blonde girl's tears that look like horizontal waterfalls, a man with computer graphic tears, a rather well dressed man in the rain…"

Meulin thanked all the cat deities above that she had the brains to change the names in her phone at the last minute, knowing it just might have come to this. Previously she had 'Rydas' and 'Makara' but she changed it to 'Rydas Personal' and 'Rydas Business', and she to him 'Ninjette' which she also found out was the Juggalo female pronoun for Ninja. Weird clown lingo was weird. She didn't even have to look back to know that the stiff reading from the teacher sent his 'shining pupils' into fits of hysteria. Meulin slammed her small geometry notebook shut, slumped in her seat and waited until he would get the hint that her and Kurloz's private conversation was nothing more than obscure mimes!

She felt a small, emotional spasm in her stomach. Was it weird to miss him already? Sure they were becoming good friends but she was itching to hug him and be near him and talk more about her evolving ships. Maybe they could have another marathon, or take a cat nap on his comfortable bed, or canoodle, or even-!

A stubby hand slapped her desk. She quivered and gawked at her teacher's irate expression.

"Miss Leijon, this is the exact reason I have to give you afternoon detention. You're not even paying attention to me anymore."

She pouted and wished she had just skipped altogether. Darn those powerful fandom feels!

* * *

"Aranea, I would like to talk to you about your triggering help promotion for my club. As you know I have been leader from quite some time and I only want to make sure we are represented in a professional, upstanding and open way. Not to say that we don't accept people who have a hard time with organization but I know it is the key demographic we are reaching out to. Now, as leader, I would hope there wouldn't be anything to promote the idea that we aren't safe and confidential. I only wish to look at the flyers you have so that I can be satisfied."

"Well as of now you don't have any flyers because you never told me you wanted any. Should I get on that now?"

"Yes. Let's discuss what I have in in my mind for the concept-"

"You know what? Just write it! Yeah, just, uh, send it to me in a very long e-mail! Don't worry, I'll read it!"

"But what happens if I have physical examples?"

"They have scanners in school so you can just send them in attachments."

"But you're not busy at the moment."

"Yeah I am! I'm working on Halloween flyers with Meulin!"

"So you're saying a confectionary-oriented period that comes once a year is more important than the psychological lives of others that are being affected every day?"

"Well, of course not, but-"

"I don't mean to impose bad judgment but I am horribly offended by your stack of priorities not to mention the unawareness of your holiday privileges. I think I will need to list off all of the ways this could be helpful to people now than to postpone them for a day that does nothing but feed the gluttony of innocent children and-"

"Listen here, _Vanta_s. Serket-van-pelt doesn't have the time nor the patience to glub away aboat somefin you clearly care more aboat than she does, knot to say it isn't important. But cod, you can and you will glub us all to fuckin death so why don't you just fin her e-mail on the school website, grab a couple examples, pop in a five hour energy, write that shitscale out and she'll get on it, alright? Are we done here?!"

"!"

Kankri Vantas stormed away and trampled down ten side steps from Aranea's 'School Clubs' booth that was positioned on the small, elevated auditorium platform in the school gym. Meenah cackled as he marched and messily side-stepped around every skater working on tricks for their after school program and reached the exit.

"I thought my brain was gonna turn into caviar!"

Meenah laid her face on a stack of blue flyers and puckered her full lips out at the pair beside her. Meulin had been snatched from detention to 'work' with Aranea for an hour, as she was head of information for various organizations at Beforus High. What a surprise! But they did nothing of the sort because Meenah chatted about future Halloween festivities for the most part until Kankri shut her whole mood down. Talk about blowing some boat steam!

The colorful trio sat on small stools with Aranea in-between Meulin and Meenah. She was in charge of writing down the names of 'cool fronds' that were coming to their party on Halloween night.

"Leijon, you have it easy."

"I do?"

"Yup! Sea, when I get in trouble the teachers automatically latch me onto Serket cause they know I hate anyfin that involves their petty 'School Spirit'. So they enjoy swimmin up to me and askin what I've learned aboat the many waves you can spend a 'Beforus Boon-Dollar' or what club they'll need to join if some crazy student wants to be on the student committee. Trust me, Meu. You ain't tryna to do this again."

"I need all the helpers I can get, Meenah!"

"Of course you do, Serk, cause this is a fuckin drag."

Meulin continued to scribble little cats on the idea paper for the school's upcoming dance, but then eavesdropped, or rather mouth-dropped on Aranea and Meenah's social get-together conversation.

"So, we were talking about the party?"

"Oh yeah! So basically it's goin to be on Halloween. I thought to myshelf 'why have it on the weekend when I can just tail the followin Thursday to go suck my 2x3 prongs!' It's gonna be a huge profit."

"Why's that?"

"Cause you know that 'totally cool and amazin' teacher and student oriented Halloween party they're goin to have around seven that night? The one you're actually workin on posters for? Yeah, no, nobody in their right mind that has an ounce of reputation in this shell-hole is goin. So what _I'm_ goin to do is make a small rumor that I'm havin a get together and that all grades are invited."

"That's nice of you!"

"Of course it is...until they sea your booth posted outside and some buoy I hire tailin 'em there's an admission fee of five bucks if they're knot on my list! And man, who wouldn't want to spend the sand dolla dolla knowin they wouldn't be anywhere else but my offishal party, huh? It's genius. I am a genius."

Aranea shook her head as Meulin peeked at a pair of unfamiliar names: Rufioh Nitram and…Horuss Zahhak?

"You're not using my booth, I worked too hard to make it."

"Oh come on, it won't get hurt! It will be outside and the work buoy will make shore knot a dent or scratch will get on it. Besides, it will be covered with black and orange construction paper AND it will house my metal money box!"

"Okay, but what about inside? That's my apartment you're talking about!"

"Hey, listen to me! Nofin is gonna happen, and if it does, that's what the money is for! You know our fronds wouldn't trash the place up on porpoise. And, as a bonus, I'm gonna buy cheap-ass supplies, no pumpkins, one streamer and a bottle of Absolut we can mix with lemonade before anemone even arrives."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? What kind of Halloween party only has one streamer and no pumpkins?"

"I'd rather invite _MEGIDO _than mess up my nails! I've learned my lesson from last year. You remember what one swordfish did? The drunk fuck slid on the wall while he was on top of our old couch, you know, the one we haddock to throw away because someone puked on it? Yeah, he literally tore all my decorations down and almost broke the shot glasses on the wooden table! You were somewhere else when this happened, maybe upstairs but oh my cod when I found out from Nitram I let 'em have it! So If any freshman wanna get caught with alcohol it will have to be from their money on their terms, knot mine! In fact I'll do a strip search before they come in! No drank comes in my party, only kids and fun!"

"That's an awful lot to do for some cash!"

"Hey! A sand-dollar is a sand-dollar. And buoy do I love me some sand-dollars!"

Aranea smacked her forehead while Meulin snorted.

"SO, miss kitty kit-"

Meulin's cheeks flushed a light pink.

"-you in? I mean, I don't know if you'll be comfortable with people jammin to stuff you can't hear but you'll get to meet more of our weird and awkward but semi-likable fronds so it's up to you."

"I'll think about it!"

"S'chool if you have other plans, maybe involvin that mystery fish of yours? Hmmmm?"

_Oh no_. Meulin's flush turned scarlet. They can't know about her and Kurloz, not yet anyways. She wanted to form her opinion of him before they altered it for her.

"I-I don't know yet."

"They're so many fishies in the sea for you to sink your little fangs into! I'm glad you got over the 'I need to compensate gettin some pleasure with friendship' from Makara…"

She gulped at that statement. She wasn't compensating per se rather she just wanted to know him better. What's wrong with that? She didn't know how all of this developing relationship business worked in the real world. It's much more complicated thinking about it on her own than with others. But she sighed and waited for the clock to strike four so that she could go home and prepare for the evening ahead of her.

* * *

"...And then he just went on and on and then Meenah just hissed at him and told him to go somewhere else!"

"She ain't never gonna get used to that shit."

"I know, but still. I understand where Kankri is coming from but he does seem to mouth an awful lot. Meenah always tells me I'm lucky I can't hear it otherwise I'd feel the same way she does!"

Kurloz ran a hand through his hair and chuckled. It was around seven thirty in the evening. Gamzee had departed for his bi-weekly sermons around four and it left Meulin time to prepare before she came at six. It was a particularly sunny day amongst the bitter October weather so she saw it as a sign to wear a more warm-oriented outfit. They both sat opposite each other on the burgundy rug in the living room with couches boxing them in. In front of them were white paper with a variety of pencils, crayons and markers that she brought from home. There were scribbles of black cats, witch hats, skeleton bones, which turned into small scribbles of themselves riding animals, silly hats, smiley faces, etc. Before they knew it twenty minutes had passed.

Kurloz had turned on the television and flipped through no particular channels but stopped to pay attention to Meulin when she removed the purple throw off of her bare shoulders. It had become colder in the house so he had given it to her for warmth. She wore a grey, plain spaghetti strap shirt, a short peach plaid skirt that reached the middle of her thighs that were covered with baby green cotton stockings. Her curvy legs were bent in a lady-like position and tucked neatly beside her body. She wore the same black ballet flats but they were placed beside the entrance of the house. The 'wicked ensemble' was complete with candy corn 'Kit ears' and fuzzy blue tail connected to her skirt via keychain. Makara, on the other hand wore a wine colored, silk button up work shirt and dark grey cargo pants that reached the bottom of his knees and revealed his crossed, hairy lower legs. She tossed the throw towards the purple love seat which landed on top of her pink backpack and turned back to Kurloz who smiled and started to mouth at her.

"Hey, you want me to try to see if anything scary is on?"

"Sure!"

Meulin continued to draw a little blonde girl beside a crude drawing of an older guy. She saw his body language exclaim something excitedly and looked up at the screen to see the title 'Halloween 2007.' She laughed at looked at him expectantly.

"That's my shit!"

"You're so obvious!"

"So are you, doodling little pussies and a Rose beside my doctor, which by the motherfuckin' way, I tried! I'm not the best drawer like you!"

She stuck her tongue out and neatly pushed her supplies in a single file across the fuzzy rug.

"Also, uh, apparently the original version is better than this one but I mean what the fuck else is new? I have poor taste in films, I guess."

"So what? People should like whatever they want! It makes the world go 'round!"

He nodded in agreement and stood up to head for the kitchen while she got up and moved to the big, brown couch and lied down vertically. She idly glanced at commercial previews and let her thoughts wander. The night had been going steady and surprisingly platonic. She didn't know long it would take for her sexual avidity, buried away in the back of her mind, to manifest once more. But she believed that the film they were about to watch could help with dispelling that. She inhaled a comforting, buttery scent and Kurloz came back by the couch only to sit playfully atop her lap. She gasped and a large, white bowl full of popcorn in his arms began to be devoured with his greedy fingers.

"Hey!"

"Have you seen this?"

"Uh-uh!"

"Oh fuck. I hope you don't get queasy 'cause this movie got blood for days."

"I can handle some blood and gore. Besides, I like to think of myself as a hunter from time to time, prowling in the jungle and saving innocent islanders like one of Rambo's accomplices!"

"Hot."

She smacked her teeth in amusement and tickled his waist. He slid to his side and finally got up to lie beside her on the edge of the couch. Dube, how merch dose thid bro eben weigh, one elelephant?!

Needless to say, she didn't get distracted or sidetracked or seduced in any form or fashion for that secret, unyielding hope was hit by a tree branch, pummeled and beaten to its unmerciful death never to be seen for the duration of the film. It had everything she thought he would like; family problems, psychiatry, violence, mood and atmosphere, sex, long messy hair and even the excessive use of the word 'fuck'. It almost seemed like the further the movie went into Michael Meyer's life the more Meulin had felt that Kurloz had stopped his breath at the word:

_Psychopath._

By the first half of the movie the popcorn bowl was abandoned on the love seat, half eaten when they lost their physical appetites to their visual ones. Kurloz had felt her twitch at intense moments, stroked her hair and asked her several times if she was okay and every time she had nodded. She was more than fine with horror and violence! Hell, adventure and action was one of her favorite genres but this particular film was giving her some sort of weird real-life parallel and she couldn't put a finger on it.

As the movie progressed the affections had stopped. There were no longer fingers to detangle her locks or a thumb to caress her shoulder even when she felt abnormally squeamish and hugged his waist. It was as if she was abandoned, forced to watch the development of the 'antagonist' by herself.

By the credit sequence she had looked up to see wisps of smoke coming from a lit Newport cigarette. He had a disturbing satisfaction in his eyes when he met Meulin's gaze and rubbed the back of her neck.

"I'm guessin' no sequel for us, huh?"

There was no response simply because she didn't know how. She had realized that even though they were still becoming friends there was still much she didn't know about him and that caused a greater uncertainty than the film ever could.

He had finally caught on to her pensive yet lifeless gaze. It was like she wasn't there; a shell that searched deep inside for an answer that couldn't be found. He furrowed his brow, put the cigarette on a glass ash tray atop the window sill and cupped her face.

"You okay?"

She blinked. her sickly pallor showed signs of color.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

He smiled again and brushed a few long strands away from her face. She looked back to the windowsill that housed various iridescent candles and observed the placid strings of ash that arose. The light from the lamp post outside seeped through the slits of blinds and gave the smoke a menacing glow. She gave her attention to Kurloz again with strength and bravery brewing in the pit of her stomach.

"Can I ask you something?"

He plucked the cigarette from the ashtray, puffed and expelled the vapor through his nose.

"Of course, Kit."

"Well, this is the first time I've seen you smoke."

"You've seen me-"

"Cigarette! I mean-the first time I've seen you smoke a cigarette. Why?"

He looked at the cylindrical cancer stick and shrugged.

"Sometimes people start off with the small shit and end up with something more serious."

He looked into her eyes with a softer expression.

"…I know it's bad, Kit, but I've been doing this for a while."

She subconsciously played with one of the small button on his work shirt.

"It's just so pawful fur you."

"I wasn't exactly the prince of health to begin with."

He chuckled humorlessly but she wasn't buying it. Her frown had deepened significantly but more from her next sentence than his unscrupulous habit.

"I've heard some things. Rumors, I mean, about your brother."

The air stiffened. It was the first time Meulin had noticed a trace of somber emotion and for a moment, he said nothing. She felt her heart pound under his questioning gaze and tried to mend her error.

"But, I mean, I don't purrlieve any of it. I was just curious. We don't have to talk about it if-"

"No."

He moved upright on the arm of the couch, cigarette placed back on the ashtray and easily forgotten while his limb rested on the top of the cushion.

"You know what they say about rumors: You gotta dispel that shit from the source. So, what do you wanna know?"

She pushed herself up beside him to initiate a serious conversation.

"Well, I've heard from others, not my friends by the way, that something had happened in the past and it was pretty bad. I don't know. I think I have some idea as to what happened but I just don't know why it happened."

She paused, unable to word her indirect question any subtler and waited for his response.

"Well I can't really tell you all the reasons why that shit happened. But I can tell you that he was born on a day that my family did not approve of. They had let him grow up to see what he was like, skeptical of what they believed in-"

"Your religion?"

She saw Kurloz move his tongue around his mouth while he stared at the small rips and protruding fluff on parts of the cushions in front of him. It reminded Meulin of when she had talked to Gamzee on their way to his house.

"Yeah, so they thought something wicked would go down and I guess Gamzee knew about it before they could really react, so…"

His gaze deepened and searched for something that was clearly there and replayed in his mind.

"Stars aligning…Mirthful Messiahs…Angels of double-death."

She rubbed her shoulder with warm hands. What did that all mean?

"You cold?"

"I'm fine."

He nodded.

"Well, it's more of a cult than a religion but that's what we like to call it. Actually, Gamzee is the one that got me into it. It's something we don't really discuss in detail with outsiders. Not that you're an outsider to me but-"

"I'm not in the cult so it wouldn't be appropriate."

"That's right."

"What does Gamzee do?"

He licked his lips and tasted the chalky face paint.

"He converts."

"Oh."

Meulin grimaced inwardly from a delicate awareness. What if Kurloz thought she was just being his friend to get information? What if their trust was damaging? Meulin instantly regretted this whole conversation and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You know what? Let's not talk about this anymore. I'll tell you what! Since I asked something purrsonal you get to ask me whatever question you want!"

Kurloz smirked and cocked his head in mock disbelief.

"Anything…?"

"Mhmm! Anything that comes to mind!"

"Okay. How 'bout your favorite ship?"

She fake-scoffed and put a hands on her chest.

"What a loaded question! Psyche, I have no favorite ship! I have way too many to choose from to even narrow it down. They're all my purrecious gay babies floating though the sea of fight or sink. Such is the life and consequences of a hypothetical matchmaker!"

He snorted. The constricting air lifted like a small burden off her shoulders.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Of course, Kit."

She smiled and drummed her fingers on her skirt.

"I know you work and I know you have to support your family."

She paused again and gave herself a moment to think about her word choice.

"Did you not finish high school? It's okay if you didn't, I won't judge you. I mean, you're doing better than most adults I know."

His face turned from puzzled, to skeptical and suddenly it was like his mind had an epiphany. He closed his eyes and chuckled, silently confirming his discovery.

"Damn, Kit. You really don't know."

"What?"

"You mean to tell me you weren't talking to your homies about me this whole time?"

"They still don't know that I'm talking to you, or ever talked to you…which sounds really bad and rude, I'm sorry-"

"No, no, that's fine. They're the damn empresses of blather but I have some secrets of my own they don't think I know about."

"Really?"

She looked mesmerized and wondered if he would 'spill the glorious deets'.

"Yeah, sis, but I don't think you'd want to know that more than what I am about to tell you."

She turned her head like a lost kitten. Was he secretly a genius working for the government? Or maybe a detective, or a spy or-

"I did finish high school."

"Oh, okay!"

"Six years ago"

She gaped. Her small smile turned lopsided, eyes widened and cartoonish with long mascara covered lashes. Her nose flared up and she didn't have the mental capacity to calculate his age let alone the fact that she sat beside an _older gentleman._

He grinned so wide it almost touched his ears. His hand went up to almost cover his face but thought better of it and signed two numbers at her.

Twenty four.

_Twenty four._

She laughed it off but the initial shock lingered.

"Wow, I wouldn't have guessed! I thought all this time you might have gone to a different school that me. Then when I found out you were working I figured you must have sacrificed school to take care of your brother!"

"Well I still did all that shit, in a way. I mean, I didn't go to college or get a degree, I just up and got myself a job not even thinking about it because I knew my main priority was him. I wanted to help that little bastard the best I could, you know? Plus, a ninja really didn't know what the fuck he wanted to do so there would have been no passion in it."

She nodded and understood the kindred sacrifice.

"But that's one thing I still want for him, to not make my mistake. Yeah, the house is paid and I just have to work day to day for light and food but I know he can be more than this. You already know he had it way motherfuckin' harder than me. To be honest, he ain't all there and he should be a sailor on s.s you cuss too got-damn much but I still want him to just squash our past and move from all of this. And you too, while I'm at it."

"Huh?"

"I have this feeling you're gonna produce some heavy fuckin' miracles in the future. You're smart, you can be dedicated and you actually pay attention in class until I start getting bored as fuck in the morning…"

She giggled and put both hands on his shoulder so she could rest her chin.

"You know that's your fault!"

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, Meenah told me you were twenty two but had some sort of problem that happened in the past so you had to be held back but l think it's really tight that you didn't give up. I respect that, so I hope you get your GED and do whatever you want to do."

He had moved his hand to run his fingers through her hair. She could only smile at him but he felt something was off after few moments passed. He lidded his eyes and looked into hers with a more serious expression.

"You ok?"

"I'm nineteen."

"Ninja, what?"

Well that turned extraordinarily awkward.

She gulped and her nervous eyes trailed all over the contours of the room, up to the innocuous clock that hung above the house entrance which said 'ten-seventeen' in the evening and finally back to the bulging eyes of the _twenty four year old_. If they got any bigger she would have to grab a bowl before they popped out of his sockets. She felt the breath from his nose become harsher and he glanced away, trying to search for words but no avail. No amount of Juggalo lingo could lift the heavy tension in the air that read 'You don't know jack shit about one another, do you?'

His nervousness was starting to affect _her_ nervousness and suddenly she felt sweat forming under her arms and her body began to breathe manually and Kurloz looked back with his incredibly uncomfortable gaze, leaned even closer so that their noses were practically touching but she could still read his black-lined lips which moved so soft it was like he was uttering the vast sentence that could alter time and space as she knew it.

"...Am I gettin' locked up?"

"_KURLOZ!_"

He jumped away from her in horror and put his hands up while she was too stunned to do anything but gawk at him.

"Emm Oh Gee I can't even purrlieve you said that!"

She put both hands that were previously hanging in the air on her mouth to stifle her upcoming giggles.

"Eighteen is legal you know! Did you know there are some states where the age of consent is sixteen? I think we're doing okay!"

"No, don't sidetrack that shit on me. That doesn't make me feel any less of an old-ass man!"

"You don't even look twenty four!"

"Yeah 'cause you haven't seen my geezer face under all this paint! You know what, this is too much. I need to smoke."

"But you did smoke!"

"No, sweetheart, I need to _smoke!" _

She giggled again as he made his comical descension to the basement. So, she was canoodling with someone who was clearly over being legal and she didn't even think twice about that ever happening. She only had two years until she could call herself a full-fledged adult. Didn't girls her age have older friends all the time? Well, maybe not friends who did…stuff. When were Meenah and Aranea even going to tell her about that?

Oh yeah, never, because she hasn't uttered a peep.

So there she was; little naïve Meulin Leijon thinking about her past actions with old-ass man Kurloz Makara. She furrowed her brows and thought about how weirdly mature he was, open to her interests but still managed to maintain his mystery and charm. She took this time to remove her cat ears and tail and set them on the loveseat if she were to ever get truly comfortable with him.

Kurloz came up the stairs again in a much calmer state, stretched out beside her on the couch and looked back to her again. She took the time to really examine his features. He was definitely taller than her by about a foot but he still looked youthful. He was right, she wouldn't know with all the paint but that was a risk she decided she would take. The only details she could make out was his bushy brows, languid eyes and strong facial features. Everything he wore had a sort of baggy quality but that didn't mean he was to be considered lanky, quite the opposite. There was just something about his appearance that made her feel better about her own cat persona. His confidence would infect her and she would take more pride in her role play gear and care less about what others had to say. Maybe that's why she was so allured by him; she had never seen someone that relaxed about it.

She raised a hand to her delighted smile when she saw his hand twirl his rolled white owl cigarillo.

"I feel like this 'bout to be one of those long nights."

* * *

Meulin and Kurloz still lay delicately on the couch beside one another while breaths of smoke hovered in every direction. The old smoke alarm's battery had been removed, the blinds closed, the ashtray in arms distance and the air freshener on the ground for emergency, which to be honest wouldn't do _that_ much good but they were high, what does anyone expect? In the middle of passing the blunt Kurloz got the bright idea to bring his desk lamp upstairs from his work desk while turning all the other lights off which gave off a more intimate ambiance. It had started to rain outside which added to the feeling.

"Kurloz?"

He turned his head and lifted his brows to indicate his attention but his eyes barely looked open and were dark with scarlet veins.

"I'm fine with your age."

She had patted his chest for emphasis. When she became high, her movements were more touchy feely.

"Are you fine with mine? I mean, we just started being good friends. And, I know you've got a life to live and I'm still trying to graduate-"

His left arm moved and his index finger hushed her lips.

"I'm solid if you solid, pussy cat."

She nodded heavier than necessary. He put a hand behind his neck in a stiff manner and she pouted at his strained countenance.

"You okay, Kurzorz?"

"I don't know, Sis. This old age is creepin' up on me."

"Only with me, right? If you're that uncomfortable-"

"Naw I was jokin'. It's just…Fuck, I don't know."

She bit her lip and realized the fragile relationship she had with him was already stained. The 'fuck it' in her system really wasn't a match for her validation for age acceptance.

"Maybe I should just leave-"

"No, don't do that, I said I was joking."

He turned his body so that he could face her, wrapped one of his arms around her waist so she had no choice but to pay attention to his speech.

"Read my lips. I am stupid high and I might say some dumb shit but believe be when I say: I don't wanna front. I feel uneasy but that's only because I've been through this type of shit before so it takes a minute for me to open up. You just have to up and be patience, aight?"

He looked like the typical dopey twenty year old but in reality he was spoken like a true adult. Maybe he was hiding some sort of deep intelligence, just like the paint that masked his face.

"Okay."

He smiled, squeezed her side in reassurance and laid flat on the couch satisfied with their conversation. He reached one arm to turn off the now harsh lamp light, nabbed the purple throw from the loveseat and covered them both. Meulin snuggled her face in the crook of his neck like a doting kitten with one arm around his chest and leg bent on his thigh.

She let her mind wander to a taboo while she felt the heavy rise and fall of her intoxicated companion's chest. This situation was similar to an innocent freshman in high school caught up in the flair and forbidden charisma of a college boy, and boy was she a sucker for all things forbidden. It's what caused her to be an avid shipper in the first place. Meulin could feel the shiny sparkles dance around her eyes while the hand that previously rested on his side slid up his neck and pulled gently on a few waves of hair.

Kurloz closed his eyes from the glare of the TV screen and indulged in his one true weakness. She felt his massive sigh and she lifted her head up while craftily adding the second hand.

"You must love hair salons."

He cracked a grin, moved his head to the side and stared at her as best he could with his barely lidded eyes.

"It's been three weeks. You have on hot as fuck thigh highs and now this. I hope you know not to start shit I'll want to finish."

She felt the spark ignite. It was that too; his natural assertiveness which seemed to bewitch her every time.

"Whatever do you mean, mister Makara?"

"No you didn't."

She could only cackle harshly while he pushed his torso up, flipped over and lazily pulled her body towards the center of the ashy brown sofa. He moved his body between her thighs and lifted them so that they were on either side of his waist and his knees could spread apart to keep them bent. He buttoned down half his shirt, fed up when he got one stuck and lifted it off with one arm only to discard it somewhere on the floor.

He bent down and silenced his giggly flame with a chaste kiss. Meulin couldn't help but smile as she put both arms over his shoulders but the mirth wouldn't last when he demanded entrance with his tongue. She had achieved the thought of them actually kissing in this manner too late when she automatically parted them. How was there to be any way of him knowing she didn't have experience when they were both out of it?

It didn't matter because all he did was suck her tongue and bite her lower lip which she was more than enchanted with. She made a light groan as he immediately began to form love marks on her neck. His fingers and palm caressed up her bare arms, atop her shoulder, down to her waist and finally her breasts. She lifted her legs and crossed them over his waist when he started to knead over the thin cotton fabric of her shirt.

Kurloz thanked all his lucky messiahs she didn't decide to wear a bra today. He licked the edge of his teeth and lifted his head from his affections, moved his hands down to the edge of her top and slowly removed it while she lifted her torso and arms up. He didn't even care for where he had chucked it.

His hands gingerly slid up her bare waist, which was covered in goose bumps and cupped both breasts with his index and thumb before he nodded and said:

"They _do_ fit in my hands."

Meulin giggled and swatted at his arm playfully but held onto them when he began to gently pinch her nipples.

She craned her neck and shut her eyes from the shock and unusual pleasure. He kept pressing them between his fingers and tugged now and then while she crushed his waist with her thighs at the sensation. It was enough pressure to make them harden like ice and it wasn't enough to be deemed painful. It was torture and she enjoyed every second.

Once they was hard enough he gently caressed the tips and areola with his thumb while she relaxed her legs and whined in bliss. Her arms moved upward to take hold of the armrest which half concealed her healthy redness and carnal expression.

Just when she though it couldn't get any better he leaned forward, took one mound in his teeth and grazed before he whirled his tongue. The other hand continued its tender contact. She rolled her eyes back and drew out lustful cries and tiny gasps. The strong 'catnip' in her system released all her fan girl inhibitions. Meulin imagined them in an alternative universe where he was an older prince of noble blood and she only a meager teen mage of love and they could only meet in secret, not daring to expose their action to the likes of others! Oh no, it would be the scandal of the solar swee-uh…Year. Nonetheless it was really hot and she didn't give one can.

She felt his free hand slither down her contracting waist and before she knew it he had journeyed beneath her panties, fingers stroked between her labia majora. Kurloz was appropriately rewarded with hands deep in his hair and a cry so loud it could have woken the whole neighborhood.

"Oh, _Kurloz!"_

By god, this old-ass man had exceptional skills! He kissed her sternum and slowly inched his body downward on the couch, leaving a trail of hot kisses. His arm had moved so that he could make his trek down properly and still please her by rubbing her clit with his thumb. She twitched and pressed her mouth against her raised arm. Meulin was boisterous than ever before.

His sat upright, moved her legs straight up in the air and lifted her cotton black panties, discarded them wherever and spread her eager thighs. He licked his teeth again, deviously this time and concluded that she was like a frail, female lion in the unforgiving capture of a horny sea-goat, which in the future, if he were to dwell on it, would conclude that the thought made no sense whatsoever.

He moved down with her clouded eyes deliriously watching with excitement and zeal!

Until she caught sight of the disgusting mess of dripping, liquid acid blood and Alien monsters pelting a man in the head with Its second set of teeth.

"EEEEEEEEE_EEEEEEEE**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**!" _

Kurloz jumped out of her skirt, completely dumb -struck

"**WHAT THE** **_FUCK_**_!"_

He sharply turned in all directions, limbs helter skelter before he leaned too far over the edge, lost his balance and landed on the living room tile, head first.

"_SHIT_."

He heard the hitched gasp of his _beloved Kit, _ignored the massive knot forming on the side of his head and immediately stood up to see Meulin cover her mouth with both hands. Her hair was a dangling mess and the TV screen illuminated the sweat on her pale skin. He would have stepped closer, asked if she was okay and hugged her for comfort.

But he dared not to.

"Are you…are you motherfuckin' _gigglin'_?!"

"I'm-mmmf! I'm sorr…!"

She couldn't even finish. Her back slowly hunched and her mouth delayed any noise when suddenly she gasped, moved back and guffawed. She held her stomach which tightened from the infectious, hard laughter. He frowned deeply, not enjoying the harmless prank which shot his sensual mood.

"Damn, Kit, I didn't know this was what we do now."

"Look at the screen! Look what's on!"

She slapped the cushions and shrieked in amusement. All Kurloz could do was mouth a small 'Oh' to himself when he saw it. If he was getting some head and noticed a disgusting Xenomorph having his way with a defenseless crew in a ship out in lonely-ass space he would have lost his shit too. There was just nothing to be mad at.

Kurloz took a few steps towards the loveseat, grabbed the remote and changed the channel. She calmed down and smiled at all the widdle penguins in the arctic. This must have been a documentary on animal life.

He sat down in front of her and gingerly poked the small bump on the back his head while Meulin moved over and kissed his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Kurzorz."

"It's all chill, I've had worse I guess. So, you uh…"

He ogled her down and up. Meulin giggled and scrunched her face in playful awkwardness.

"Not really. That kind of turned me off? Like, a lot?"

He nodded slowly, bit his lip and swallowed.

"Okay…uh…okay."

She laughed again as he got up, hung his head and headed towards the stairs of virile shame.

"Oh no, Kurly Q, don't be like thaaaat!"

He extended his arm and raised a sassy hand to her, not bothering to look in her direction while she cupped her cheeks and cried out from hilarity. After a few seconds of deep breaths she lied back down on the couch while a puffy penguin waddled on the screen with a fish in its mouth. Meulin now had a new set of questions that needed answering. Were all older men detached or was it just him? What was his perception of love? Was it possible to warm his frigid, past-stricken heart and let her in? Could she delve deeper into more personal aspects of his life? She bit her thumb and wondered whom she could go to for general inquiry.

She had finished her thought at the same time Kurloz stepped back up. He changed into a loose black shirt and grey sweat pants.

"You tired? I don't think that couch would be great for that back of yours."

She smiled sweetly at his remembrance, stood up, turned off the television, grabbed her pink backpack and strolled towards the beam of light that came from his room.

* * *

"What do you guys think about older men?"

"Say _WHAT_?"

Meenah and Aranea spun around to face Meulin from the front seats of Meenah's parked, fuchsia painted ford focus. They had just finished their Halloween 'shopping' from a local party store and were discussing where to get lunch until Meulin decided to be brave in the privacy of closed doors. It was a week after she had visited Kurloz and concluded that there was no teen forum, anonymous advice site or yahoo answer that could quite give her the advice she needed.

"Ok, _PUASE..._How old we carpin?"

"Early twenties?"

"Oh dam. What's old to you is dolphinitely knot old to me. I instantly thought forties and was scared for a second you were caught in the net of a sugar-water daddy."

Meulin's nose wrinkled in amusement at the mental image of Kurloz with a pimp suit and cane.

"No definitely not."

"Good! I thought I was gonna have to smackeral someone. Kelp, you're askin what I think of 'em? Whale since we're carpin twenties I should start out by sayin that they are basically an upgraded version of the saggin' and baggin' flunkies we're dealin with at school. Sea, an older buoy pikes younger gills cause they can still drink and party and have fun and perfect their dick-u-puncture skills-"

"Meenah!" Aranea exclaimed.

"-And when they finally decide they're done with all that they turn into kelpless puppies. All they want is to be loved and cared for cause they finally bereef they have somefin to offer to the older ladies cause they're certainly knot gonna put up with their party animal shit. Not to say that's a bad thing, but we gills are more fun and easygoing and still their type, kind of."

"I see…so, we're just practice until something better comes along?"

"Yes and No. They can have their flings and knot worry aboat emotions with a young party gill. And if they do want to hook up with her or maintain somefin more searious they-Oh wait…hold up. Is that who I think it is?"

Meulin turned around and looked at the view of a slender, oriental-themed woman with a red uniform who pushed a cart filled with Halloween supplies; cups, napkins, bowls, pocky, black lights, assorted candies and boxes of cigarettes.

Meenah looked down at her bag in between the seats: A seventy-nine cent pumpkin streamer and some red cups. Meulin looked back just in time to see her mouth:

"_Megido."_

Meenah groaned.

"You wanna witness the queen of destruction and drama you're lookin at her physical embodiment. How did she even manage to get all of those supplies?! Oh she thinks she can just take all of my potential custo-I mean, guests away from me whale I wanna throw a second thought right at her vulgar dome and watch it shatter across the tar! I can make a good Halloween party, right Serk?"

"You try."

"Fuck you, I do a great job!"

Meulin stifled her giggles with her hands.

"You know what? I lost my appetite for thrift shoppin. Let's go to the new pizza mart they just built on the other side. Maybe if that eastern land whale shoals up I can her a give a good pokin with my spork and watch Ahab do eight flips in his water-grave."

They got out of the car into the bright warmth of the sun and started to make their stride until Meenah looked at Meulin questioningly.

"But seariously why you askin Meu? I told you what I know so the least you can do is lemminow this mystery buoy's age."

"…What if it's not a 'buoy'?"

"Guuuuurl you swim that way?"

"No, I'm teasing! But okay. I wanna say twenty three? Maybe…twenty four?"

Meulin strolled happily with hands behind her back and looked around at all the cheery shoppers on a Saturday. She took joy in knowing they were preparing for the festive holiday she would participate in. She was so caught up, in fact, that she didn't realize her two 'gillfronds' no longer walked beside her. She furrowed her brows and turned around to see 'Guppy Lips' and 'Spider Sylph' staring in the most entertained manner possible.

"Oh. My. Cod. I _knew _it."

Meenah wagged her finger at Aranea while slowly making her way towards a very befuddled cat girl.

"I fuckin KNEW that this sneaky little catfish was hidin somefin from us! Oh you're caught in my net now! You have no place to jump out for safety so you might as whale confess! _I know your serket."_

Meulin froze with fear.

"But it's not-"

"It's knot what?! Come on, no need to fib now. I always fin a wave to the truth courtesy of my dear friend Pyrope with her fabulous lie-detectin skills. You can reely learn a thing or two from that rad girl. Anemoneway, come on. Spit it out!"

Meulin felt her heart drop in her stomach. Aranea had inched beside Meenah for informational porpoises-uh. Purposes.

"…"

"Whale?"

"OKAY! I'm sorry! I just wanted to see if I could have a friendship with him first! I didn't mean to keep it from you guys but the day I talked to Gamzee we sort of went to Kurloz's house and then we talked and hung out and he gave me his number and-"

Meenah put up a satisfied hand with a smug look on her face.

"Who said it was Makara?"

Meulin gaped.

"I think we're gonna need a whole box of anchovy pizza now!"

Meenah cackled all the way across the street.

"I'm sorry, Meulin. I wish I could have signed to you or something but you know. Uh, ok I'll be walking now."

* * *

Meulin stared at her slice of anchovy and pepperoni pizza with slight distress and wanted to crawl under a litter box. All three girls sat at the far end of the pizza mart, away from the crowd of people who lined up to order greasy pizza and hot wings fresh from the oven. They each sat around a circular table at equal distance from each other to leave the right amount of viewing space.

"Mmm this pizza so good, mang. I'm so glad y'all chipped in cause my clam purse don't exactly got it pike that."

Meenah took a last bite of her cheesy goodness and glanced at Meulin.

"Oh COME ON, Meu!"

She leaned over and poked her shoulder.

"I was gonna fin out eventually! I mean look, you start textin more than usual right after I set you up with little Makara and then you don't wanna come to our house because what? You haddock to take your cat to the vet? You were goin out of town? You banged up your toe on the kitchen table and needed to let it heal?"

"I actually wasn't lying about that one."

"All of that was water under the crossing trestle until I heard you utter the word…_miracle."_

"…I did?"

"She did?"

"Ayup. We were glubbin aboat math homework and you said it would be a _miracle _if you could finally get a good grade in 'Sourpuss's class. I knew from then on because there is nobody in this god-forsaken earth who ever says the word miracle unless they've stayed in touch with a Makara for too long! Hell, I've stopped hangin out with him shrimply because I wanted to straighten out my vocab! And NOW I have to stop hangin out with Serket over here cause I'm ramblin unnecessarily!"

Meenah shook a mock-angry fist in the air.

"Dam you all and your catchy quirks! UGH."

Aranea could only shake her head while Meulin laughed lightly.

"You hung out with him?"

"Yeah, shore, plenty of times. I mean, come on. Nine whole years of him and he's pretty much the big bro who doesn't say shit. Who doesn't pike that?"

Meulin then remembered the serious question she had wanted ask.

"You told him I was twenty two. Why?"

"You told him she was twenty two? Meenah!"

"HEY! I haddock to say somefin to him otter-wise he wouldn't have given her another chance."

"But you lied to him and that kinda means you lied to me."

"Oh I sea how it is! You didn't even want to mention that you were in love-cahoots. Uh, yeah, you're welcome, AGAIN, and now we're even."

"No I'm fine with what you did but why…Oh."

She finally put the two pieces together.

"He doesn't like younger girls."

"Huh? Who said anyfin aboat that? I told him cause he wouldn't stop textin me aboat us drinkin at our age. He always does that; it's his sugoi big brother complex but I mean dam, I've got a life to live too! Cod he has this weird drug dealin hypocrite mentality. So, yeah, I lied! A little white lie, so what? He probably knows your reel age now, right?"

"Yeah, but wait. You told me you didn't know much about him befur!"

"Whale I do and I don't. I thought you weren't interested in him anymore so I didn't say nofin. So that's why you were askin all aboat that older man stuff huh? Oh man why you ain't tail a sista?"

"Beclaws I thought you were going to tell efurrybody."

"Hey, peep at these beautiful lips. I am a sometime-y beach but that's all I'll ever be. A sometime-y beach. If I was spreadin all the business around Serket would have kicked me out the crib a long time ago!"

"It's true."

"So you can trust me! Sea, I'm your frond!"

Meulin smiled and felt the doubt wash away. She lifted her still warm pizza and took a small bite.

"But seariously water y'all even doin together? Lemminow."

"Does it have to be here?"

"Are you kiddin me? Look; a jolly ol' fat santa clause and two badass kids runnin around with they broke momma on the other side of the restaurant. Who is listenin?"

"…"

"You know you wanna."

"MOG, okay! The first time we hung out it was at his house beclaws I didn't want anybody knowing what was going on and so we ate corndogs and made ships on paper and he even introduced me to 'Doctor Who' which is this cool British show that I am still not sure I should be taking seriously but anyway we started texting and getting to know each other and just last week we watched scary movies and smoked catnip and it was the best time evfurr-"

"Holy mackerel why is this so interestin. I seariously need to stop swimmin with you, Serk. Pigs will be flyin with bacon-wings any day now."

"Not fair, you know your thirst for knowledge is greater than mine!"

"-and he's really nice and sweet and more intelligent than I thought and he doesn't like to let a lot of people in but I think I can change that you know I mean I can be the dashing princess to rescue him from his tragic past and-"

"Woah someone call life alert my cares just fell and they can't get up."

Aranea looked at Meenah's grimace and knew where this was going.

"Oh no, Meenah, don't. I've seen that face before."

"Oh cod."

"She doesn't know any better. I know, how about we go get some more pizza-"

"Oh lookit me my name is Kurloz 'mothaglubbin' Makara! I'm such a dere dere bishie and I love skulls and bones and I'm so glubbin deep and I wear black over my eyes and treat all my ladies right and oh wow I'm so emotional and sophisticated and crazy cool and did I mention deep and ow my past hurts pay attention to me and wow check out this mad charm I got on these ladies I'm so fresh they can suck my nuts!"

"And so it begins."

"Bitch of water. Man troubles you have?"

"HOLY SHIT, _MEGIDO!" _

Meenah and Aranea sprang from their seats. They didn't even realize the schoolgirl vixen loomed behind them until it was too late.

"Oh NO, I am finishin this statement so both of you can just SIT THE SHUCK DOWN and LISTEN TO ME which I didn't think I would ever shout to anygill ever so _DO IT!"_

Aranea sat stiff between Meenah and a horribly confused Meulin while Damara sat in the empty space with pizza slice on a plate and a nefarious demeanor.

"Now be mouth hustler, Meu-meu. I bereef we all need a small and polite reality check at this table."

"No, Meenah, please! We don't have to do this now. She hasn't even been with him for the sliver of time you have!"

Damara moved her head up and down in violent approval.

"No, I don't want to go through this cullshit again. Now before we begin I want point out that Makara comes with a few hefty prices that I usually have to deal with later on! All his little fuck-buddy sylph-lookin maniacs wanna approach me and ask: "Oh, why doesn't he fancy me? Oh why doesn't he care for me?" Sometimes when a gill or buoy hollas at him they think he's this precious perfect puppy prince that's gonna sweep 'em off their feet with his 'skills, confidence and attitude' and want them to fall in love! Aww, how sweet...It makes my blood fuckin boil and I want to poke my EYES out with my shiny golden stick cause I want inform you, just in case you didn't know, that he is a **_JUGGALO._** Now for those of us who don't know what that is-"

Meenah put one hand out like she was holding a invisible bread slice.

"-it is a mixture of Detroit trailer trash-"

And then the other.

"-and the dope boy rapper from next door-"

Then slapped them together and began to rub her palms animatedly.

"-smashed together pike some stale peanut butter and jelly sandwich or betta yet, oil and water! Gotta admit knot the best combination humanity has come up with but hey what can ya do!"

Meulin could only stare in terror as the high pedestal she had put on Kurloz shrunk to a modest size.

"Again, this guy is pretty much flesh and blood status but I've sean some shit and haddock to put up with more than enough of my share for nine whole years. When they get their little hearts broke and swim to me for answers I tail them the exact thing I am tailin you now so you won't say I didn't warn you before you go any further in your relationship. He drinks and smokes and parties and yes he has been through rough shit but tough, who hasn't? I am just lettin you know because Meu, you're my good frond, right? Please understand that this grown ass man who pays his bills and has a job and even earns a little cash for the fam has knot opened to anemone for a good set of years. Do**_ knot_ _expect_** shit to happen."

The whole restaurant was so silent they could hear a pin drop. Meulin died right then and there while she broke into a sweat from the tension. Aranea had her head in her hands while Damara lit a wood-tipped black n' mild, completely satisfied with Meenah's spontnaeous monologue.

"So…s-so I shouldn't pursue him, then?"

"Nah, I'm knot sayin that. All I want is for you is to understand crystal clearly _who_ you are pursuin and if anyfin should arise you should knot be surprised or caught off guard in the least cause trust me I won't pretend to be."

Damara blew small smoke rings in Meenah's direction and she scrunched up her nose.

"Gurl, water you even doin? GET OUTTA HERE YOU NUTTY _BITCH_!"

The scarlet vixen mouthed an untranslatable language, stuck her tongue out between her fingers and sauntered away from the trio.

SO, Serket, you got anyfin you wanna add?"

"As a matter of fact, I do! First, that was the worst exposition of a person I've ever heard in my entire life and maybe you should take a break from me and second, I would like to rule out some important variables. Meulin, what do you think is the label of your relationship?"

"Label?"

Meulin pursed her lips. Was it really necessary to put something on it now?

"I'm not sure."

"Really? Then what do you want out of it?"

Meulin glanced at Aranea's shimmering, cerulean painted lips and wondered if Kurloz had ever kissed them. She was sitting next to beautiful women and he chose to keep in contact with her, of all people.

"I…I don't know yet."

"Well, let me ask you this. Has he kissed you? On the mouth, I mean."

She furrowed her brows, not knowing where this was going.

"Well, yeah, multiple times."

"Then you're definitely not friends with benefits!"

"I'm not?"

"She's knot?"

Aranea gave Meenah a face that read 'of course you don't know' and looked back to Meulin.

"When two people get involved in a long-term friends with benefits relationship, they tend to avoid kissing on the mouth because one, it doesn't lead to any intimate emotions and two, it's a great way to avoid any sorts of diseases. Have you been tested yet?"

"…Tested?"

Aranea patted her on the shoulder.

"You have so much to learn."

She felt like she was just hit with a ton of bricks. She thought Aranea and Meenah were on the same level but no. It turns out Meulin was just young _and_ inexperienced. Meenah played with an anchovy piece and suddenly her face lit up.

"I got it!"

Aranea looked over to Meenah which cause Meulin to do the same.

"Are you still going to my beachin' Halloween party on wednesday?"

"I might."

"Ok, fuck that. Go ask Makara to, I dunno, go trick or treatin or somefin. You're never reely too old for that."

"But he might be working that day-"

"Cullshit, he gets off early at Halloween, and I do mean every Halloween. There's too much bank to be made from parties pike mine. If he's there late it's just because he's involved in the hot clubbin. Trust me, if he reely cares, he will shoal up. Think of it as a test of your frondship. If you're just some young thang he wants to have his wave with from time to time then dump him pike a rock bein thrown in the sea to never return!"

Meulin smiled brightly at her 'gillfronds.' but held her true emotions inside, which were a dark swirl of unsettlement.

"Okay!"

"REELY? I mean...s'chool"

"Meenah has never had someone deliberately tell her they liked her advice with a genuine face."

"Have so. Anemoneway tail us all the deets later and if it doesn't work out you know we're your plan B."

"I will! And I hope your party is a great success!"

"Oh shell yeah. I'll be rakin' in all that Halloween dough, don't you worry your pretty little cone ears."

She nodded and they all got up and left to return back to the car with Meulin in worse spirits and a confusing understanding of what she was dealing with.

* * *

Meulin relaxed on the white boarded porch in front of Kurloz's brick house around seven thirty in the afternoon. The previous moments of her brooding in the kitchen had passed. She had texted him a week before and asked if he would go trick or treating with her and he agreed. But he also told her he could be late because of his job. So she waited and explored the start of Halloween with eager eyes. Dusk was filled with scattered clouds and rays of flamingo and amber. The slivers of light gave every house on the block an ethereal glow. A group of five year olds started to make their way down the lit streets with adults in tow. She smiled at the sight which bared her homemade fangs and gave life to the dark shade of lipstick and sparkly forest blush. Her eyes, dark and clumped with mascara, eyeliner and dark green eye shadow batted quickly from the drafts of wind. She shivered with only a black and green striped spandex bodysuit, poufy hair and black, layered feather skirt to keep her warm. She wiggled her toes inside her green converse while Gamzee strutted out the front door dressed in his normal attire.

"Hey inverte-sister, long time no motherfuckin' see!"

"I know! How are you? Why aren't you dressed up?"

"Not a big fan of this holiday. I'm just gonna hang out with some bros of mine."

"Oh ok, well, have fun!"

"You waitin' on Kurloz?"

"Mmhm!"

"Don't you wanna chill inside and keep fuckin' warm?"

"Nah, I'll be fine! He should be here any minute now. Besides, it's not that cold."

"Yeah, maybe it's 'cause I just stepped outside. Anyway, I'll see you on the motherfuckin' flipside my Ninjette!"

"Okay! Bye!"

Gamzee jogged down the concrete steps covered with wet, crinkled orange leaves and made his way down the street, only to be seen if he passed under a street lamp. The bare trees bristled, children would pass by in batches and skimpy-dressed teens were no doubt headed towards a house party. Meulin just absorbed the warm atmosphere and enjoyed the last gusts of October air. This is what Halloween was all about to her; going out and having fun with people you like. She turned on her handheld which was sitting next to her, pressed the play button and continued to watch episode nine of 'Doctor Who', fascinated as to what would happen next.

* * *

"Who the heck is David Tennant?"

The website she was on automatically loaded each episode when she was done with the previous. She had watched episode ten through twelve, so caught up in the thrill, excitement and romance that that by the time it ended she cocked her head to the side and looked up, expecting some sort of outlandish comment about 'Blasphemy' but none came.

Street lamps lit the desolate, black tar and concrete littered with candy wrappers. The sky had turned oxford blue, the trees stock still and the crisp wind pierced needles in her quivering body. There was not a soul to be seen and Meulin had lost track of time. She exited out of the screen and gasped at the horrific revelation.

_Twelve-thirty in the morning._

She shot up. Every single family was tucked away in their homes, soaking up the after effects of whimsical fantasy and togetherness. And what did she gain? A strong urge to scream at the top of her lungs? She had missed it all. It would not be back for another three hundred and sixty five days and for what? One person who didn't even have the nerve to text her or let her know they were okay or even when they would arrive? No. She had missed everything; her friends, the atmosphere and the last increments of a whole month. All for _him._

_Was it worth it?_

If Meenah were here she would have scolded her about how he'd most likely found a hole to crawl in but there wouldn't even be that moment because Meulin was warned. Oh was she warned and now she was faced with being the 'stubborn fool' who had missed their favorite holiday. She scurried and angrily trampled on every step down to the chilled concrete. Her eyes became blurry from water, breaths short and sporadic, visible with every puff from the bitter air. She rubbed at her shoulders and wondered where she should go and what she should do.

She had made a pact with herself long ago to never let detriment get to her. She would rise above that and shine only with the brightest emotions, thoughts and feelings of positivity. She would think about how she had food in the fridge, a mother who loved her dearly and a small puff ball of joy who greeted her every time she stepped through the door. She had her health, her limbs, her heart and her eyes. She made friends and stepped out of her shell. There was no reason to be so upset at one holiday. Surly she can just make it up next year, and the year after that, and the year after...

The tears fell down her burning cheeks. After her hearing accident she would channel her negative emotions through drawing or writing and when that didn't seem to help she would turn to a tangible source, being her mother. Meulin refused to let anyone know she wasn't more than a happy-go-lucky teen girl with hopes, dreams and a disposition beyond her handicap.

But as well as being handicap, she was also a _human being._ She felt the whole spectrum of emotions just like everyone else. And now happy-go-lucky Meulin Leijon was all alone to let those nebulous, opaque and _capricious_ emotions swallow her outer shell, deep within the tendrils of nothingness.

She sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. There was something more dangerous that feeling uncertain and that was when her own darkness took over and left her feeling feral like a wild animal; only driven on instincts and all the thoughts she tried so hard to not let people be cognizant of. And one of those thoughts was pure selfishness. She deserves an explanation for all of this! She deserves to know why she was left here all alone to suffer in the cold, friendless, and without even the satisfaction of going to one house and indulging in the accepting light of another.

It was November the first and Meulin had become savage.

She slowly walked up each freezing step, back to the white-boarded porch, sat down, teetered back and forth for warmth, caressed her sharp nails with her thumbs and wept.

* * *

Meulin felt the rhythm and vibration of a large motor vehicle. Her head lifted and her eyes squinted from the bright beam of the headlights but she made out the form of a relatively immaculate, black SUV with chrome rims. She pushed herself up from her warm spot on the lighted porch and waited until the vibrations stopped and the lights turned off. The figure opened, stumbled out and slammed the car door. She noted the flicker of light that indicated the care for the safety of the lock. They used the wooden handrail to jog up the steps, walk into the light and halt dead in their track. _He_ wore his signature jacket and face paint with hair messier than usual. His red shirt had been stained here and there. A pelvis, two femurs, tibias and fibulas were drawn on his black pants and purple combat boots completed the festive outfit.

"Heeeey Kitty-kat! Oh, damn you look hellaaaaa fine!"

Kurloz Makara was drunk off his ass.

She wrinkled her nose at the smell of alcohol in his breath. The dry stains of tears made her make up look more like black lines of tribal paint. She glared at him ruthlessly, teeth slightly bared, breaths in small puffs, hands balled into fists and body shaking from the _November_ chill.

Hell hath no fury like a trick-or-treater scorned.

He stumbled and lifted his lower arms to clasp her waist with his hands for support but she quickly scratched them like disgusting maggots.

"Don't TOUCH me!"

He scrunched his face in pain and rubbed them together.

"Ow! Fuck…"

He straightened himself up, stumbled back a few steps away and squinted at the harsh porch light above Meulin. He then pressed his eyes shut and opened them wide with an attempt to sober up. His arms moved down to his sides and he swallowed. The last, untouched part of his brain finally comprehended the furious look he was receiving which caused his face to be conflicted with many emotions and one statement to come out of his mouth:

"Oh shit."

She stalked slowly towards him like a untamed lion ready to destroy every last bit of its prey. He put his hands up in defense and shrunk in fear.

"Wait, no, let me explain."

She stopped and cocked her head. Is this what she'll have to deal with if he was her boyfriend? This shit here? Gross, no thanks!

"Explain _what_?"

He balled his hands into gentle fists and sighed at the defensive tone in her voice. He moved his body from side to side so that he could keep himself from falling straight on his sorry drunk ass. His eyes would blink in desperation and he used his arms to accompany his every word.

"Listen, listen to me. Uh, I had to work very fuckin' late. I had no motherfuckin' choice, babe, I mean, I had a lot of fuckin' drinks and my boss just persuaded me to stay, I don't know, and I lost my phone, man. I lost it and I thought of you every second, I literally just raced home just to get to you-"

"Stop."

She puffed her cheeks and squeezed her fists just so more tears wouldn't fall from her face.

"Just stop. You're drunk. You're drunk, and you're lying to me. You didn't have to work this late, did you? And why didn't you just ask for someone else's cell phone?"

"I…I don't know. You're right, I am fucking wasted as shit and I'm sorry, I just…I wasn't thinking."

"No you weren't. You weren't thinking about anyone but yourself."

She crept closer to him and each step she would take forward he would take back.

"You forgot? You _forgot?_ How long does it take to send a simple text saying that you won't be there? That you won't make it? How hard is that? Do you know how long I waited for you? Do you know how many smiling children passed me by? Do you know how that makes me feel when I waited for some _drunk_ _Juggalo asshole _hoping he would keep his promise to me that I would be a part of that? No, you don't because you were too busy having fun and guess what? I missed everything. I missed the candy, the fun, my friends, all of that because I believed in your word and your trust but boy have you proven me wrong tonight!"

The tears started to form again. He had stayed silent and bit his lip so hard he drew blood.

"I'm sorry. I fuckin' am, believe me. Okay, I had a lot more drinks than I fuckin' should have-"

"Then how did you even manage to DRIVE IN YOUR CAR?!"

"I'M A GOOD MOTHERFUCKIN' DRUNK DRIVER, OKAY?! I don't swerve for SHIT and the twelves don't even GOT a motherfuckin' thing on me-"

Kurloz Makara then proceeded to have the biggest wipeout on his concrete, leaf-covered steps in the history of wipeouts. Meulin only snorted at him, tip-toeing around his sprawled frame.

"I hope you broke one your _real_ bones!"

"Okay now that shit right there was just too motherfuckin' harsh!"

"Harsh?! I trusted you! I thought you would be here for me and you broke it! _That_ is harsh! My friends even threw a party and I didn't even go!"

"Well then why didn't you?!"

"What do you _THINK_? God, If I'm just going to be some piece of animal meat that just sits here and waits for you to come do what you please then I don't want to_ DO_ this anymore!"

Her breaths were raspy and visible under the pale moonlight. The tears had started to flow again and she shook with lividity. Regardless of how broken her heart was or what holiday she missed, life had moved on. That, to Meulin, was the worst thought of all. There would be no sympathy for someone like her, someone who was warned and knew better.

Kurloz had taken a moment to let the adrenaline rush clear his bloodstream and properly examine the damage he had done. He heard tiny sobs sneak out of her lips, her heavy chest expand and release with each shaky breath she drew in. She blinked the sparkling tears off her beautifully made up eyes and he knew he had royally _fucked up._

"…Who told you that?"

He had hastily lifted his frame which was now bruised from the fall and bleeding from his split lip. She didn't even have to do any damage, he was managing that all by himself.

"Who told you that I felt that way about you?"

"Does it matter?"

He looked to her like lost pup that had done the worst thing imaginable. He put his hands in his hair and tried to find the right words but to no avail. He slapped his hands on his face and groaned. Meulin couldn't deal with this anymore and made her way down the path to home.

"NO, wait, FUCK! Come back!"

He grabbed her wrist and she snatched it out like hot acid. She snapped her head back and he once again had to suffer with the misery on her face.

"Get in my car."

She slit her eyes and bared her fangs in disgust.

"_What?"_

"Just-…Get in my car, I want to make this up to you."

"What could you possibly do to make this up to me!?"

"Just get in the motherfuckin' car, Kit!"

"NO!"

She stepped forward in his direction, glaring daggers and lasers into his sorry skull.

"I don't _want_ to get in your 'motherfucking' car I want you to _stay away from me_!"

"Shit! No, please..."

He clasped his hands together, kneeled down and pelted his forehead in agony.

"Please, _please _give me another fuckin' chance, I swear to every messiah there is I will make this up to you, just please don't say that to me…"

She grimaced at his visual display of grief and wasn't able to hear what he muttered from below. In the few moments Meulin had to calm down she came to a sad realization. Kurloz did care about her. He could have just as easily told her to fuck off or leave and that she was just a piece of meat to him. That would have been the end of it. But Meenah at some point mouthed to her that it wasn't possible to lie when you're at his stage of inebriation. He wouldn't have grabbed her wrist, apologized, pursued her or even groveled in front of her from his knees if he hadn't really meant it.

"Are you sorry?"

His head shot up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Yes!"

"You mean it?"

"I motherfuckin' mean that shit so hard I put it on my fam. Just please stop crying and let me make this up to you. I swear you will not regret it. And, for the record, I _don't_ think of you as animal byproduct."

She chuckled humorlessly, rubbed her arms with her hands, looked up to the stars and felt like a complete fool. She would probably be a fool later for grabbing her handheld from his porch and walking towards the passenger door of his SUV but she was cold, scorned and tired from the healthy release of unhappy emotions. She was satisfied with him being her outlet and if anything she'd make him drive her home if the rest of her night wasn't.

Kurloz ran to her side to open her door but she ignored his sudden chivalry and hopped inside. She saw the door slam and his lithe frame walked around the front. At least it was warm. She strapped herself in, folded her arms and looked at the bare road of what was once filled with Halloween spirit.

The light came on and he climbed in the driver's seat, fumbled with the key, turned on the ignition and she saw his lips move in a sporadic motion while he turned away from the curb and drove off. Wasn't he too drunk to drive? Was he as good as a driver as he said? Could his word even be trusted anymore? Meulin didn't care anymore. She pressed the side of her forehead on the cool window and stared at nothing in particular.

Meulin Leijon didn't know whom to confide in anymore.

* * *

"Kurloz…what are we _doing_ here?"

Kurloz Makara had done the absolute stupidest thing in all of human male existence and driven all the way to a deserted supermarket. They stood inside where there were only a few cashiers and two customers. Meulin blinked and hoped she would wake up from this incredulous dream but no. Kurloz the homotool hass become the star of his own dumb-assery. It was him.

"Just follow me."

She silently obeyed his command, crestfallen. At least it was bright. He made his way across several aisles and made a right down to where she could see an assortment of party snacks, chips, bottled water. At the end was the candy section where the cashiers had just marked the big bags for half price.

"Okay, get whatever you want."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm not. I got _paid _tonight. My boss told me if I worked overtime I would get my bonus _then _and I could not just pass that up. I did get drunk, I fuckin', I had some fun but I was honestly thinking about who I wanted to spend it on, and I thought of you the whole motherfuckin' time. I mean it."

"So now you're my sugar-water daddy?"

"Wait, what?"

"My sugar-water daddy."

She pressed her lips in a straight line and thanked Meenah from afar for a clever, aquatic pun she could now use in real life.

"No! No I'm not-…Fuck, that _did_ come out wrong."

"You're still drunk so I'll let it pass for now. If you think this is how you're going to win my furrgiveness then you can just take me home."

He split lip tugged into a small smile. At least she was beginning to use her puns again. He missed it.

"Naw, Kit, this is just the start. If you want me to, if you really want me to, I could buy this whole motherfuckin' aisle for you, okay? I would do that in a heartbeat, if that's what you want. This can be yours."

He spread his arms apart like an eagle.

"I don't give a fuck! You want those fucks right there?"

He promptly pointed to the peanut butter cups sitting silently, minding their own business.

"Those can be yours, you want this shit here?"

He pointed again to the small bite sizes chocolate, caramel and peanut bars.

"That shit can be yours-"

He whipped his head back to the sound of a small giggle. Meulin couldn't believe what he was doing. He not only rambled like an idiot but he also talked like it was the most important thing in the universe. She couldn't help but snort at his ridiculous display and laugh. When she was done she saw the lopsided grin stick to his face out of triumph and she pouted.

"…Fine."

She nabbed both items he had pointed to, along with some pyramid chocolates and a small packet of red waxy fish.

"I know you not done."

She looked up at him disbelievingly.

"What?"

"One time, me and my brother went out, right? We ain't have no pumpkin buckets or Halloween bags or any of the expensive shit but the pillows sacks from our motherfuckin' pillows. And maaan we filled them _STRIAGHT UP _to the brim. I shit you not we had candy for months. So let me say it again."

He had moved closer, emphasizing each word in his sentence.

"I know, you not, done."

She stared at him down and up, shoved the candy bags in his arms and scampered down the aisle with haste. He waited for several moments until she came back with a shopping basket in her hand. He nodded energetically in approval.

"Now that's what the fuck I'm talkin' bout."

She smiled at him and papped his hands which made him drop the all the bags into the basket.

"Shut up and help me find the apple rings."

* * *

Meulin and Kurloz sat in the backseat of his car, still in the parking lot of the unnamed supermarket. Their backs were to the car doors so they could face each other with six bags of candy between them. The glucose to Kurloz's body had sobered him up a little while Meulin happily devoured small pyramid chocolate pieces.

"You know what I did last year on Halloween?"

Meulin looked up at him with a soft expression. She didn't really want to be reminded so early of the one she didn't get to have.

"…What?"

"After people came over for bud, I came to this exact spot, bought my candy, came straight home, ate it and fell asleep. You know why?"

"Why?"

"'Cause that's what grown-ass men do."

Meulin chortled, a piece of chocolate still in her mouth.

"That's so depressing!"

"I know. I didn't even scare any hoodlums! I just turned off all the lights, put a small bowl of candy corns out the porch and passed the fuck out."

She smiled at him and removed the silver tin from another piece of chocolate. The heat was turned on high so she could warm up. She stared thoughtfully while he chewed on a red fish. Her head rested on the seat and her legs were crossed. Something still didn't feel right.

"Well, you still have to make this up to me. What's your plan now?"

He relaxed his frame, folded his arms and progressively leaned towards the bags of candy like a great weight pushing him down throughout the whole sentence:

"I am still tipsy so I'll tell you the fuck what. I want you to ask me _anything _you want, I will answer it!"

His shot up and inhaled before his face planted itself on a bag.

"I mean it, whatever comes to mind. I don't think I can lie."

"You certainly tried."

His expression turned dejected while his arms squeezed tighter around his waist

"…I'm sorry. I really am. I don't know what I was thinking-"

"You weren't."

He smirked at her cheeky attitude, chewed on another red fish and waited for her first question.

"Why do you sell marijuana?"

"Money, simple as that. It's easy, it's discreet, you get to meet hella people, establish yourself, make partnerships. I realized a lot of people in my line of work end up doin' that."

"Speaking of work, where is it?"

"Oh. It's called Club Posse. It's far away across a long bridge up north where more of the city is. We just did a Halloween party so we made bank. I did all the promoting but boss said if I just helped with security I would earn a little more."

"I see. How do to you communicate?"

"How do I…? Ah, I have this wicked ninja who translates for me. Other than that I really just write out poster ideas, draw 'em up in illustrator and print 'em off."

"Have you ever talked to anyone at all besides me?"

"Of course I did, otherwise I'd be motherfuckin' terrible. After what happened to my brother I just shut down and chose not to say shit. Religion was a good excuse. Sounds childish when I think about it but now it was a bit of a catharsis for me. I do talk but only if it's a matter of life and death."

"Why the face paint? Is it really connected to your religion?"

"Naw, not really. You don't need face paint to be a Juggalo but I do it just because I grew up with it. It's like a mask, you know? Or a second face. You can be anybody under it and only few people would know the real you."

Meulin pondered about the 'mask' comment. Meenah did say he didn't let a lot of people in…

"I can imagine you delicately applying white powder and black eyeliner."

"If I straighten my hair I could probably make more dough with who I'm sellin' to."

She scrunched her face in mirth at such an outrageous statement but he just laughed it off.

"Are you actually uncomfurtable with my age?"

"Not really, but I just didn't want to say why."

"Say it."

He exhaled.

"…I just don't like letting young people this deep into my life. I appreciate how much they wanna have fun and don't want to take shit too seriously. And when they have gotten involved with me they either tended to gravitate somewhere else, be put off by my lack of speech or shrug off any seriousness to what I've been through. I don't like that shit. Some little fuckin' guppy told me it's 'cause I've been messin' around with partiers too much. I don't exactly attract anyone classy so it's somewhat of a lose-lose situation."

She nodded and understood where he was coming from. She even forgave Meenah again.

"Do you like me?"

"Yeah."

He had blurted it out without hesitation while he stared intensely at her weary face.

"Yeah, I like you. I like you because...you like me. It's been a hot minute since that's ever happened so I just I had this strong urge to fight for it. I didn't want to let you go."

"I'm glad you didn't."

He smiled tenderly at her and she returned his sentiment. They stayed there, ate chocolate till their hearts content and enjoyed the patching up of their friendship. Kurloz was about to reach for one of her chocolate pyramids when suddenly his eyes widened with agression.

"Wait here!"

He grabbed the keys from his pocket and climbed out the back door before he slammed it and raced towards the market with hope that it wasn't too late.

"…But where am I gonna go?"

She played with the feathers of her skirt before she decided to check the messages on her handheld. Turns out there were an awful lot of them. They were mostly from Meenah exclaiming that her fabulous party was ruined by the schoolgirl they had seen before. There was something about her boyfriend cheating on her with some strong guy, she going bat shit insane and pulverizing half of the guests. She didn't get to skim over the rest when she saw Kurloz race over to the driver's seat, toss another plastic bag on the passenger seat, start the engine and drive off. Meulin straightened up and put her seat belt on but still managed to lean forward between the seats to look up at the rear view mirror.

"Where are we going?!"

"You'll find out!"

* * *

Kurloz had parked on a darkly lit street corner and just a few feet away from a huddle bunch of wasted college kids stumbling back to their dorms from a Halloween party. Meulin looked at the bag he dug one of his hands into and puzzled the two, tiny metal horns he brought out. It suddenly clicked.

"Oh no. You're _not…!"_

He looked up at her with a most devious expression she had seen on his face.

"I'm getting an adrenaline boner just thinking about their fucked up-ass faces. This one time, a couple years back, I was going through this weird-ass phase and collected horns. I know, crazy right? Big horns, small horns, squeaky horns what the fuck EVER horns. Anyway, Gamzee gave me a lot, and I mean a _lot _of shit for it. So what I decided to do was put every horn I had ever collected into one huge fuckin' pile in the living room. I waited for him to go to sleep that night. I crept in, scooped him up, gently put him down on that sucka and I swear to you I wish I had filmed that motherfucker because he did not know _WHAT _to do with himself!"

Meulin Leijon had never laughed so hard inside a motor vehicle.

Kurloz waited for her to reduce her raucous laugher into small chuckles before he slipped out of the car and waited for her to do the same. They both ran on light feet across the street from the five college kids that tried to hold themselves up. There were three girls and two boys; One pirate, one skeleton man and the rest in matching sexy fairy costumes. They were all horrible, cliché outfits and Kurloz was glad he was going to drunk-scare the shit out of them.

He looked to the side to see his accomplice crouched under the same bush he was behind and stared at his chosen victims with awe. He tapped her shoulder and signed to her:

'Watch the master at work.'

She rolled her eyes playfully as he sneaked across the street in their general direction. He waited until they walked under a post lamp to make his move with the help of the surrounding shadows. She could still see his mess of curly locks so he wasn't that camouflaged but he continued to be unseen by them. Meulin found a closer hiding spot and lurked behind a green rectangular trash can. She could no longer spot Kurloz and the students just started to walk under another lamp post.

It was the best thing she had ever seen.

Of course, she couldn't hear the horn but she did have a good idea what it sounded like. All the girls flailed their limbs in fear as one of them even climbed onto another's back. The guys had dipped from the light into the shadow, scared shitless. The pair of girls fell over and hit pavement. The third one put her hands together in prayer before she jumped again which Meulin assumed was Kurloz honking at them a second time. They were all a huge mess and she covered her mouth to conceal her massive giggles. The pirate had finally spotted the perpetrator in the nick of time moving across the street and ran for the chase. Too bad the chase wasn't a chase at all. The poor guy barely made ten steps before huddling over and puking in the middle of the street.

Kurloz skidded behind her spot, took her hand and hoofed it out of there. Meulin could no longer hold her giggles and laughed all the way to the car. He had hopped in but she stopped dead in her tracks in front of her car door. Her eyesight focused on an arm that was visible on the edge of one of the looming lamp lights. She squinted and saw it move away and then form the visible shadow of a body being dragged away by a cloaked figure between two homes. The only thing she could distinguish from the body and the figure was that the figure wore some sort of elevated footwear.

_Heels._

She felt a tap on her shoulder and she whipped her head towards Kurloz. He had already leaned over, opened the door from his seat and stared at her with a concerned face.

"You aight?"

She nodded, climbed in and strapped herself before he made a U turn in the opposite direction of the distraught college kids that were quite possibly scarred for life.

* * *

Meulin had finally directed Kurloz to her address. They were parked outside the entrance while she pondered in the car about how to carry all her bags of delicious candy plus the two horns for 'memorabilia'. She felt a finger poke her side and she looked over at her deliriously tired Juggalo.

"Look. I know this ain't enough and maybe never will be for what I did but you bet your fine little head I will keep trying. I just have to do it next weekend 'cause there's not much I can do now at two thirty in the morning."

"I understand. I have school anyway."

"You're still going? Goddamn, I would have said 'fuck it.'"

"My mom would flip if she ever found out!"

She saw him nod and look back at the steering wheel, put his forehead on it, close his eyes and sigh. She realized just how stressed he must have been all night with her looking like she wanted to tear him to shreds and him wondering if he could still salvage the pieces of friendship leftover.

"You can come in if you want."

He turned his head to face her with droopy eyes.

"You sure? After all of that?"

"I know you live a few blocks away but I can't help but feel like you shouldn't be driving anymore."

Kurloz chuckled and felt that action drain away his energy.

"Yeah, you right. But I don't want to impose and all that."

"My family isn't here right now. They won't be fur a while."

"Why not?"

"Just come in, okay?"

He lifted himself up and decided not to argue while he was practically defenseless. He put his car keys in his pocket, took three bags away from her lap and waited for her move. She put the four bags on her lap, plus her handheld, and looked all around his huge vehicle for the last time.

"Your car is so nice."

"Thanks, Kit. You know what they say: Big boys gotta have big toys."

"That's what they say?!"

"That's what _I_ say."

She couldn't help but laugh at his sleep deprived humor. They both stepped out of the car, walked up stone steps covered with wet, brown leaves and surrounded by green shrubs before they reached the doorway. She set the bags down and removed the house key taped under her spandex sleeve. She unlocked, grabbed her bags and entered while Kurloz was greeted with darkness and a pleasant smell of catnip.

"Please close the door, I don't want Mog to get out."

She turned on the kitchen light and set her bags down before she came back to grab his.

"Mog?"

He did as instructed and as a treat got to see a tiny white cat approach from the stairway.

"Mmhm! I like to call her Moggie sometimes. Oh look! She likes you already!"

He bent down and put his hand out for her to smell. She wiggled her black nose for a moment and then rubbed her head so he could feel her long, soft bristles of fur.

"This is a pretty little pussy you got here."

Kurloz didn't even realize what he had said before he looked up with a straight face while Meulin put a hand on her hip.

"Really? Well I bet it likes it when you stroke its fur. I bet you can feel just how _warm_ it is."

He closed his eyes in a small shame.

"Okay. I get it."

He opened one eye to see that she was too busy moving things on the stove to pay much attention to him so Kurloz was left to visually explore. The stairs in front of the entrance, he guessed, led to some bedrooms. He looked to the small kitchen on the right and back over to the living room on the left where Mog the pretty pussy had perched herself on top of a white couch. He walked over and noted the two big windows with white curtains on the wall by the door and the one beside it. He took off his combat boots to preserve the clean, beige floor and sat on the couch which was actually in front of a wooden television set. He was too lazy to explore the little frames with photographs inside the small, spacious squares.

Mog pounced on the cushion beside him and happily placed herself on his lap as a source of warmth. He leisurely scratched behind her ears and was rewarded with a small hum from her fluffy body. He observed the glass table with lime green coasters and realized that she couldn't have been the only one living here.

He saw Meulin hand him a white mug filled with chamomile tea while she sat down next to him, grabbed the remote from the table and turned on the sixty inch TV, flipping through the menu without purpose.

If anyone would have seen them on any other day, the pristine living space, the older Juggalo , the younger cat-themed huntress and the fluff ball, they would have said it was the weirdest thing they had ever laid eyes on.

Kurloz put his mug on a coaster, leaned back and looked to Meulin's face which was highlighted by the screen. He observed the delicate work of her outfit; the small feathers, the hair, the spandex and her made-up face. The stains of mascara and blush made a thin line from her long lashes down to her chin. He had done that. He had made her cry and what did he do? Buy candy and scare assholes? No, this was more serious than that. She would have to wait a whole year until she could do it all over again. How long had she been there, shivering and waiting to beat a ninja's ass?

Suddenly she broke his train of thought, leaned back and looked over to him.

"Kurloz, can I ask you one more thing?"

"Anything you want, Kit."

"…What are we?"

The question had caught him off guard. He furrowed his brows, looked away from her gaze and down at the glass table. She waited, heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't lie and say this was the real reason she had invited him over. She needed closure on the aspect or she couldn't go on without knowing what he meant to her.

He fixed his look back at her with a more determined expression.

"Whatever you want us to be."

"No."

She shook her head, unsatisfied. She had to know what he _meant_ to her.

"I want to know what you think about us. What do you want out of this?"

He looked for a few more moments and lifted his arm to wipe away the tear stains with his thumb that held her previous sorrows.

"You."

She cocked her head in confusion. Was she satisfied with that? Did he even know the implication of using that one word? It meant he wanted her, all of her, every piece. Not just body, but other things.

"Do you mean sexually?"

He shook his head, his eyes searching hers in a deep concentration.

"No. I'm interested in you; what you have to say and what you want to do. And I want you to smile every time you see me instead of this."

He brushed her cheek with his hand for emphasis.

"Really?"

His touch warmed her up more than tea ever would. It was like her whole face had brightened and illuminated the room with her abrupt happiness. So that's what he wanted; for her to smile and be happy when she saw him. She was more than okay with this.

"Yeah. So, whatever you want this to be, it will be."

He suddenly scrunched his nose and yawned, taking his hand away from her cheek while she giggled.

"Here, I'm gonna go upstairs and get blankets. You wait here okay?"

"I ain't goin' nowhere."

She nodded and walked over to the stairs but not before he caught her thigh with his hand. She looked down at him with a confused face.

"Hey."

"What?"

He suddenly pointed to her like taking out a pistol from his pocket.

"I like you."

She laughed.

"I like you too."

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh."

"You do?"

"Yes, Kurloz."

"Ok, just checking."

She shook her head and giggled when he let go of her. She had found the time to wash the make-up off her face, take off her outfit, put on fresh pajamas, brush her teeth and walk downstairs with a baby blue blanket.

But it was too late. Kurloz was stretched out and passed out, succumbed to the allure of sweet dreams. Meulin spread the blanket over his body, kissed his forehead, turned off everything and headed back upstairs to see that Mog was tucked away in her cat bed. Meulin turned off her bedroom light, kept the door open, crawled in her sheets and lied down.

But not before squealing in her sheets, shaking her head violently and kicking her feet up and down in fan girlish ecstasy. He really was becoming her stoner anime Juggalo Mamoru Chiba! Move over Sailor Mars; a new, proper OTP has been born!


	4. Chapter 4

Author Notes:

O HAY HOW U DOIN? ITS CHAPTER FOUR; _WINTER CLUSTERFUCK EDITION_! FA LA LA LAAAAA here are my notes for you dear reader:

Firstly, if I could apologize in every language and manner I would because wow I kept reading each chapter for errors and there were just so many! That makes my skin crawl, lemme tell ya! Hopefully I've edited the obvious ones so it's a better read overall. Secondly, I have to confess to you that I am personally less than neutral towards lyric-related fan fictions. Now, before you go 'Oh hell no, this not be going where I think it's gonna go-' I will nip that in the bud for you and say, nope! Let me explain. See, as soon as I decided I wanted to make this one shot longer, this chapter had flowed into my mind like a miracle of inspiration. This is the one I unquestionably wanted to write the most mainly due to a serious attempt to create character development while still trying to make it believable. I had it all in my mind and because of the particular setting I decided to add lyrics. You want me to be really honest? I could give less hoof beast buttocks about my last three chapters. I'm about to make shit super real so you better strap it in 'cause CHOO CHUO ALL ABORED TRAEN NOPEUs NEXT STOP 'AWKWARDLY UNCANNYVILLE'. Thirdly, _holy mackerel_ thank you all so very much for reading this silly story of mine! It reached 2k views and that's something I seriously didn't think wouldn't happen lol. I know this one took longer but that's because I really didn't feel like uploading it until I knew it was ready for reading. I sincerely hope it was worth your wait! *ω* Lastly, if you find yourself having stomach pains from laughing too hard or chest pains from the confliction of characters then I hope you have a pleasing combination of both, like I did. 38) p.s if you didn't know I put bonus notes on my profile just sayin.

**TL;DR** LOL POSTING ON ELECTION NIGHT I AM A SEARIOUS WRITER THAT WRITES SEARIOUS THINGS WHAT DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT I MEAN IT SHH TRUST ME I AM TO BE TRUSTED. _FRONDSHIPS, SLUMBER PARTIES, CELEBRATIONS APLENTY!_ Early happy thanksgiving, sweethearts!

Ok, have fun! And thank you for indulging me 38*

_Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie. I am not affiliated nor do I make any profit from this story._

* * *

Chapter 4: The Tales of Innocence

* * *

"…so THEN she finally spots Zahhak and Nitram takin shots of delicious berry Ciroc with me and Serk and next thing we knew the whole table had been given the axe kick! This was upstairs, mind you. Our smaller table was safely hidden. But dam, bangarang buddy got the worst of it. Poor lost buoy is in the hospital with a fractured hip and a broken patella, whatebber that is. Luckily the man came in just in time to arrest that crazy ho cause she had apparently pulverized half of the freshman just to get upstairs. Somebody must have called for help. How the hell was I supposed to know all those noises were pain-related, huh?"

Meulin stuffed her face with stale, small triangle sandwiches filled with tuna across the cool bench in the cafeteria and watched fuchsia and cobalt lips flap miles a minute.

"I knew I should have stopped at my third shot. You and your little drinking games are going to be the death of me, I swear it! At least it got you to stop saying 'pike' every other sentence-"

"OOH! Say it again-"

"No, Meenah! Do you know how many times students use the word 'like' in their everyday conversations? Enough for me to want to throw brown recluses at each and every one of them! There are so much more words under the sun, not to mention the dictionary, other than 'like'!"

"Yes, soon-to-be-author."

"And you know how much I appreciate witticism and wordplay and aquatic themed puns but 'pike' really takes the spider-lased cake with me! I want you to cease its usage immediately! Don't even get me started with 'haddock'…"

"Cmon, Serk, pike, you know it's totally rad, yo. Quit hatin."

"I'm not 'hatin'! It is literally the worst pun I've heard up to date!"

"Dam, that's serial killer freezer cold! Kelp, if that's what you're wantin. Sobbuami~"

"Thank you. Whew!"

Meulin barely registered their words anymore, using her blank stare as a façade for deep concentration. Most of the freshman went missing, or rather, hid from their impertinent senior. The rest of the students gossiped like lively hens. In the throes of 'Tornado Damara, level five' no one had been safe and she was compared to a demon child that took her revenge on 'Rufioh the now-cripple'. Meulin, of course, thought otherwise when she heard the real story. How would they feel if someone they loved had gone off and found another without their consent? Or even worse, had someone that clearly despised them rub it in their face?

She would hurt. Not so much as to render the person immobile, but enough to consider asking someone else to do it for her.

"Hey Meulin, are you alright? You look paler than normal."

"Man, sometimes she reminds me of a porcelain doll! So cool. I wonder what I cod sell her for…"

"As nice of a 'compliment' as that was, I think, we might be dealing with something more serious!"

Meenah chuckled slyly at the thought of white piggy banks flying over her head while Aranea put a cool hand on Meulin's forehead. It sprang right back like it had touched the vent of a space heater.

"Goodness! What happened to you last night?"

"Oh, I stayed out too late, but I'm fine, really!"

"Absolutely not; you're burning up! You look like you've been worrying yourself sick with those bags under your eyes."

And she was.

"Yeah, what even happened between you and Makara last night, huh?"

"We just did like you suggested! It was really fun and I got lots of candy but I guess I ate too much."

There was no real reason why Meulin had to share the accurate events unless he actually stood up her. The she would have come back blubbering.

"I'll say. Its look like you're aboat to barf any moment now."

That was her chance. She reassured her friends that she would just go to the nurse's office, take some medicine and wait it out. She had already eaten most of what she could so her friends agreed to meet after school and quietly waved her off. In reality, heavy feet dragged her out of the busy, slandering lunch room where she would longer be tempted to mouth-drop, hiked up a central staircase and zigzagged across dim lighted hallways with lockers where she could quietly enter her chemistry class. The space was filled with soft blue lighting from the windows. She sat in the far corner of the first row, placed her pink backpack in front of her, lied her head down and closed her eyes.

What would really happen, she wondered, if she was in Damara's place? Would the pain have been worse than what she felt in the sensitive hours of the morning? Probably not, but with laborious intakes of breath and a strained rhythm in her heart she concluded the feelings of worry might be parallel.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want me to make you tea and toast?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I would stay if it was any other day, trust me."

"Do you have everything?"

"I believe so, but I still have to motherfuckin'-"

Kurloz ran a hand through his hair, closed his eyes and sighed from outside Meulin's doorstep. He had woken up groggy from the late night driving while she murmured soft words and tickled a white feather on the tip his nose. He had found out later when he was fully conscious that it was one of Mog's newer cat toys. If it could rouse an otherwise lazy ball of white fluff what could it do for a snoozing Juggalo?

He had asked for the time and she checked the microwave; six forty-eight. She already knew his schedule based on certain texts she received. He had asked to use her bathroom which she directed him up the stairs and to the right of her bedroom. And as he ascended it left an unassuming cat girl to do what she did best; sit down on the couch, lift his skeleton jacket to her nose and whisk away to a winter fantasy.

While a cell phone fell out of his pocket and dropped on her lap.

Meulin, with nose still pressed onto the soft cotton, lowered and cocked her head in confusion. She knew he had lost his personal cell but his business cell shouldn't be with him unless he wanted to be arrested. While there were co-workers who did share his 'side job' it was still a felony, wasn't it? She picked up the suspecting device, stood up with jacket left on the cushion, tip-toed upstairs to her bedroom and closed the door so only a sliver of hallway could be seen.

This couldn't be it, she thought with a strong determination.

She spotted her own handheld on the nightstand and proceeded to put his phone on the bed while she typed a small, ambiguous note to his public number. The message was delayed and for a moment she had regained her full trust in him.

Until she saw his screen light up and display her code name in neon green, capital letters.

"Are you sure you don't want me to make you tea and toast?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I would stay if it was any other day, trust me."

"Do you have everything?"

"I believe so, but I still have to motherfuckin'-"

Kurloz ran a hand through his hair, closed his eyes and sighed from outside Meulin's doorstep.

"I still have to motherfuckin' find my other phone at work. I don't know where I lost it..."

He put his hand beside himself, attention focused on Meulin who revealed the faintest smile on her salmon pink lips.

"I know you'll find it. We should get together this weekend when you do, okay?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

He smiled and raised his hand in a silent goodbye while she did the same. His frigid build jogged down her leaf-covered steps toward the passenger side of his car before he stopped. Hands reached inside his jacket pockets and one removed itself while his head leaned down. Just when it looked like he was about face her, she timidly closed her wooden door and turned the lock.

The cellphone was discreetly put back in his pocket and it was pure luck she had gotten downstairs well before he did.

Meulin's eyes became unfocused on the serene spirals of darkened plywood. She didn't want to see his face. She didn't want to see the nacreous clouds of daybreak that surrounded him majestically. She didn't want to see any of it.

She walked over to the kitchen to shut off the only source of unnatural light and headed upstairs, back into her bedroom. The comforter and top sheet of her bed were folded over in a neat triangle while Mog curled herself into a ball on the exposed, lime green bottom sheet. Meulin carefully sat beside her and stroked the comforting warmth of her brushed hairs. Her flesh pink paws twitched while she buried her head between them, enjoying the affection from her surrogate mother.

Meulin's handheld sat idly on her nightstand. She extended her free arm to lift and scrutinize the small message she had sent on her screen.

[THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 1ST 6:53 AM] NINJETTE to RYDAS PERSONAL: (^・_・^)

She had also made sure to delete the message on his phone as soon as possible.

This wasn't such a big deal. While the lie was painful he had made it up to her as best he could for the time being. There would be candy for months in her closet and a humorous moment to look back on. Her hand lay still on Mog's fur while she reenacted the memory of him placing his hand on her and mouthing peaceful words that illustrated his sentiment in her head.

Why then did she feel that it was ambiguous? Was it because it had her feelings in mind? Was it enough so that he thought she wouldn't question what he really wanted? The stars above knew how much she didn't want to delve deep into the issue but her romantic prowess left no choice.

'You.'

For someone who had not opened for a good amount of time, that word held the biggest weight all. She was a fighter for idolatry, a champion of relationships and predicted when someone wasn't being completely honest with their feelings.

'…Whatever you want this to be, it will be.'

Would it really be what he wanted? She just wasn't sure anymore, especially since she knew that he had lied to her.

She looked sadly at the innocuous chuckle-voodoo doll he had given to her on top of her clock. It sat, hunched over with head leaned to one side and sewing pin sticking out of its neck. It hollowed her to not have anyone she could engage in these deeply personal problems. As close as she was to Aranea and Meenah, they still weren't on that level.

Maybe it was for the best. She would have to deal with situations like these on her own eventually so why not start now? It was a mature thought to be praised but no amount of it could shake off the desolate feeling she now bottled up for the first time in her final school year.

* * *

"Shuck yes! I can't wait to sink my jaws into this!"

Meulin had kept her word to accompany the 'high blooded' pair after school and miraculously recovered from her fall sickness by herself. They had each purchased a small dinner from a corner mart and were headed down the warm-colored foliage and stipule littered sidewalk to the apartment. While Meenah looked inside her plastic bag and drooled over broiled halibut with brown butter and chickpeas Meulin admired the beauty of the achromous sky. The bursts of wind kept Meulin's forehead from heating up. Aranea had decided on two small salads and two milk cartons. Meulin deemed it out of the ordinary from her usual habit of fattening sweets but didn't inquire due to her own choice of sushi rolls with fruit juice.

The walk was bewilderingly 'silent'. Normally she would observe them chatting about the latest fashion trends on domineering hierarchy but their glossy lips didn't move in the slightest. They eventually made it in front of the entrance and Meenah scraped a pile of leaves off of the tweed doormat with a mustard colored sneaker, being wary of the tiny pumpkin Aranea had set on the corner but not bothered to remove.

"We need a dam rake."

She dug in her black pant pocket, cautiously unlocked the sapphire door, peeked inside for a lengthy amount of time and looked back to her roommate.

"Uh, okay, what is the protocol for sweaty bodybuilders inside the habitat?"

Aranea rolled her eyes and moved next to her, widening the entrance which revealed not a single soul. She stepped inside, took off and tossed her shoulder bag on the couch and straightened out the wrinkles on her silk orange blouse and black slacks. With plastic bag still in hand, she extended her arms back at her snotty princess.

"See, look! He even cleaned up before he left!"

"Yeah, yeah, but when he decides to scare us when we least expect it, I will have the last glub."

Meenah walked in, lazily tossed her book bag beside the shoulder one and adjusted thick golden chains around the turtleneck of her black long-sleeved sweater. Aranea slipped off her red heels and headed towards the kitchenette.

It was rare when Meulin chose to admire the affluent fashionistas. It was only a mere seventy two degrees so she could risk leaving on her fuzzy, navy blue cat-themed sweater with blue jeans and black flip flops. The infamous candy corn ears still adorned her head as she grew more and more attached to them over the months as well as her signature tail. She closed the door behind her and examined the immaculate living space. Even with the only light source being the closed windows she could tell that the place had been given a thorough scrub down. The walls were pristine with no pumpkin streamers in sight, cobalt sofa spotless and carpet smelling of fresh gardens. She put her pink back pack and plastic bag on the pile and was about to ask what had happened to Aranea's booth before she saw her turn on the light and shook like she had seen a ghost.

"!"

She lost her balance and her butt landed on the carpet. Meenah rushed, squatted to her side, grabbed her arm and scolded her about 'being right' or something of that nature. Meulin hurried to her other side so they could lift her up while her head turned to catch sight of the guilty party.

"…Horuss?"

Meulin pulled her up too quickly which caused Meenah to lose her own balance and plummet. Both trend setters then scrambled to help each other up but Meulin didn't care. She wouldn't even care if a sixteen wheeler smashed itself inside for smoke, glass and debris to fly everywhere and squash them under its tires like tiny bugs. Nothing would make her sight stray from the ever present _Horuss Zahhak. _ She knew from the first time she had seen that name on the Halloween party list that it was _her_ Horuss. He had grown taller to her and towered by a foot in a half. His tuft of straight hair had gotten long enough to put back in a glorious ponytail. Her eyes admired his attire; a beaver brown button-up shirt and black leather pants with gleaming military boots. She looked back up at his frozen lower arms that were positioned upright and covered with yellow, sudsy gloves. She could only assume Aranea was spooked by him washing leftover party dishes in the dark. Oh, how she loved it when he surprised people with his oddities. She noted the dampness on the corner of his arms and finally gazed into those familiar goggles.

"It really is you."

Meenah rubbed her sore 'tail' with her free hand and pouted at the duo, irked by the lack of attention.

"Hello! Anybody gonna fill me in, here?"

Horuss took a step forward to regard the feline garbed guest. Meulin could only assume that he pondered her own familiarity and lack of freshman pudginess. She blinked anxiously into the spherical, thick glass and waited for him to mouth anything that cued his remembrance.

After a few more seconds he finally cracked a smile, revealing abnormally pointed teeth.

"Meulin!"

She could feel her features expand with joy and beads of tears that threatened to form in the back of her eyes.

"HORUSS!"

She happily extended her limbs like wings and he could only return the physical action, not wanting to get her clothes wet with his gloves

"HORUSS, I MISSED YOU!"

She pounced with arms across his neck and legs wrapped around his waist. Meenah and Aranea gaped stupefyingly at the 'reunited' pair.

"I CAN'T PURRLIEVE IT! I THOUGHT YOU LEFT FUREVER AND I WOULD NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN BUT OH MY GOSH YOU'RE HERE AND I CAN'T PURRLIEVE IT I'M JUST SO EXCITED AND YOU GREW SO TALL AND YOU SMELL LIKE HAY AND OLD BOOKS AND OH MY GOSH YOU'RE STILL SO STRONG AND SWEATY AND I JUST-…I _CAN'T_!"

If she squealed any louder, her handicap would have been a new addition to everyone.

"SWEET jelly fish! Can somebody _please_ tail me what is happenin here! Last time I checked my name ain't Maury and I don't have the envelope to your paternity tests!"

Horuss flushed a deep scarlet and repeatedly poked Meulin's side. She blinked, suddenly became aware of her position and turned her head around with cheek to his, red with embarrassment.

"OH! Uh, this is not what it looks like!"

"It betta knot be or else I will call every fake psychiatry show there is on speed dial and have them straighten this crazy ass mess out! Quote: 'I left my never land cripple buoy who broke up with a ho-ass wind storm to get with my role-play cat mistress. Oh by the way, I like horses!' Do you know how much bank there is to be made with the headline alone?!"

Meulin carefully slid down from her companion's frame and intertwined her fingers behind her back.

"I'm sorry."

She didn't know what to say after that. The looming silence echoed in her mind as much as it did in everyone's ears.

"Okay!" Aranea clapped her hands. "This has gotten unnecessarily awkward! Just, someone please help me get dinner set up so we can all have a proper conversation at the table! With the facts, mind you!"

"Yeah, you'd like the facts wouldn't ya, Serk?"

"Yes, please! I knew you both would gallop along for nourishment so I decided if I was going eat with you I might as well pull my own hay around here! I deeply apologize for causing you any distress, my cerulean hostess. I was merely sprucing the place up so that I wouldn't be a bother to you."

"Well, that's very kind of you Horuss but you're my guest! You didn't need to do any of this!"

Aranea took a second glance at the flawless handiwork and thought otherwise.

"Well…I'm sure if I left it to Meenah this would have happened a week later."

"_HEY_! Would knot!"

Meulin put her hands on her cheeks and gazed lovingly up at Horuss.

"You're still as sweet and generous as I remember!"

Meenah's eyes twitched as she practically felt the animu hearts and stars dance around the mammal-themed couple.

"Good grief!"

Horuss finished the dishes while the girls placed the small, square wooden table in the center of the living room. They all sat on royal blue pillows for cushions. Aranea was behind the television drizzling ranch on her Caesar salad with a glass of blueberry soda beside it. Meenah was next, wolfing down her halibut and downing it with water. Then there was Meulin who happily stuffed her face with a rice roll filled with cucumber and tuna while her head rested on Horuss's shoulder. He could only scratch the back of his head in a humble manner, his own salad already devoured and carton of milk consumed.

After her animated reenactment of 'Jaws', Meenah wiped her lips with the table cloth and started to stare at her guests.

"Okay so first of all this betta knot be some weird 'we were long lost lovers in the past only to come back together' BS or I will ollie outie."

"Nothing of the sort, my fuchsia hostess; I would hope you'd thought higher of me."

"Knot until I've…SIGH, heard the facts, so spill!"

"OOH!"

Meulin put her hand up and jiggled it like a flag in the wind.

"ME FIRST!"

Meenah's head lowered and her pierced, neatly plucked brow lifted which gave her a wordless albeit skeptical approval.

"Horuss and I aren't lost lovers! That would be so weird! But I did consider him a soul mate in a way-"

"NOPE! Nope nope no no glub glub glub-"

"-And we were best friends my freshman year!"

"Wait, what?"

"It's true, your hayness! Uh, highness!"

Meenah squinted at Horuss, then Meulin.

"Oh my cod, you two _were_ best fronds! No wonder I stopped bullyin you! It was cause of old spice here!"

"When he transferred around winter time we met on the strength training team fur P.E credits! He was the strongest guy there and I envied him so much while everyone else was scared out of their fur! Can you purrlieve it? When I found out he was being picked on I couldn't help but ask him to be my friend! He actually agreed and at first and it was like heaven sent me a cool bodyguard! It shocked me when I found out nobody on his team liked him, so I had decided then and there that I would never leave his side and the rest is pretty much history!"

"You were a chubby little gill, but you didn't look half-bad."

Horuss waved a hand politely in Meenah's direction.

"There's more to the tail than that! I had seen what those other low-life ruffians were doing to her simply because she was different and I could not stand for it!"

"And boy did he give 'em all a good lickin'! Well, the boys at least. I had to handle the girls by myself and it had to be off school grounds or else they would have expelled us all. But I was still so thrilled beclaws he was the first guy to ever put my livelihood befur his own!"

"Dag. Next time anemone messes witchu we can strengthen our team-fork and kick all sorts of ass."

"Yes, well, one can only hope they were able to smith a better personality later in life."

Meenah's eyes averted Horuss's goggles facetiously.

"Hopefurlly. Anyway! I became the 'crouching cat' to his 'hidden STRONG horse'! Oh man, I remember a time when I wore his goggles fur one day, one _whole_ day, and we made a bet that if he didn't bother me about it I would have to do what he said the next day and if he did he would have to give me his carton of milk at lunchtime. I won, of course!"

Meulin joyously pushed another roll in her mouth and chewed while she poked Horuss's shoulder. He looked down and smiled politely to her.

"Wow, were we inseparable! You inspired me to wear more of my homemade roleplaying cat stuff and I remember you tailing me that I inspired you to channel your negativity into positivity!"

Aranea waved a hand to her. " You did all that?"

"Sure did! Sometimes I would meditate with him, like, help him with smiling exercises and count backwards to ten. And sometimes I would hold wooden boards fur him to break with his foot when the situation required something brash. We were always there to help each other through the good and the bad. And look at him now! I couldn't be any prouder!"

"Yes, but what happened to you two? Where did the friendship go?"

"Y'know, to this day I still don't know why Zahhak was kicked out our…what, early sophomore year, was it?"

There was a pause. Meulin's cheery demeanor slowly turned bittersweet.

"…You guys remember that there was going to be this great district-wide weightlifting competition around spring, right? And then ours suddenly got cancelled? Horuss was going to compete for our school title early on but that meant no one else could stand a chance against him. So, the bullies decided to target me in order to make him forfeit."

She stared at the half-empty, plastic tray in front of her and tried to recollect her memories without letting them dampen her spirit.

"They did all sorts of mean things. They slapped my cat ears off, made faces at me, mouthed stuff they thought I couldn't read. One time when I was walking home I got ganged on and they even cut one of my homemade tails. That was the worst. The girls usually shoved me in lockers. I really did try to hide all my bruises. Horuss would ask me what was wrong when I would flinch in our hugs but…"

She blinked and felt the hot beads that threatened to form once more.

"I would tell him: 'No, I'm fine, please don't stop hugging me.' I should have known he would eventually find out. I kept saying: 'Please don't worry about me! They'll get what they deserve so don't let them stop you from pursuing your dream!' And I thought he had listened to me. I would have sacrificed everything if he had asked me to but it was like he said, he couldn't stand for it."

Aranea barely touched her food after that, eyes full of emotion. Meenah lowered hers so it wouldn't show but it was tough considering she used to be part of Meulin's problem.

"He had finally decided that enough was enough. When the day of the audition came all the bullies had cornered me on the fence by the school track field. I don't know how Horuss found out but I remember that he walked over to us with the most peaceful expression I had ever seen on his face. I remember how the winds blew his hair and the sun hit him just right so he looked like this huge, dark angel coming to rescue me. He had put his hand up in surrender so they let him pass and he grabbed me from the ground. And then he just led me away. I really thought that my exercises had worked miracles. But after walking a meter or so he turned around and beat them all up, one by one with that same peaceful face…

…He controlled his anger through his emotions but not his fists. I saw the blood on his hands and all over his clothes and I didn't realize that it got on me until I was pulling him away, crying and yelling and screaming for him to stop. God, everything was so red. He turned around and shook me so hard I thought my neck was going to snap: 'If they even got a scratch on you, just one scratch!'…

…Everyone was mouthing for mercy. That's when the teachers intervened. Someone had noticed us from the windows, I guess. They pulled everyone away. We got cleaned up and our parents came over for 'individual assessment' as they called it. We all were able to tell our side of the story but of course the principal was the only person who could make the final decision."

Horuss's polite smile turned to a thin press of lips.

"He put Horuss and I with our parents in one room and told us those students would no longer be part of his learning community. But he also thought it best that he not be involved in the 'hostility' and 'threatening atmosphere' of his peers any longer. He was to be transferred somewhere where he would thrive as the genius he was instead of mocked for his differences. And I knew he was right. As much as I didn't want him to leave it would have been selfish of me to beg for another chance. So I became happy. I was there his last day of class and I smiled and saw him off."

Meulin looked towards Horuss, tears now falling freely on her cheeks.

"I still remember your smell of fresh books. I remember that amazingly gentle hug and I remember you gave me your new number and told me to reach you whenever I wanted. I was so hysterical that I had accepted it without even thinking. It was a home phone and I didn't know until I tried to text you day after day. I looked it up in all the phone books and got it traced to the exact model number. I guess we were both so out of it that we forgot-"

She laughed weakly and sobbed.

"-we forgot that I was deaf."

Meulin missed Horuss with all of her heart. Never before had she experienced such a heavy loss after her accident. He had her spirit in the palm of his hand and she felt it wither away with each day that had passed. He looked past everything; her feline affinity, her passionate view on true love and even her screeching voice. She could only do the same for him, not aware of the void she would feel as soon as he got into his mother's car and drove away.

Horuss Zahhak was her platonic soul mate. They were just two lonely teens who had found each other in the midst of adolescent chaos.

"I had given up. I never thought I was going to see him again. I ended up…blocking it out of my mind!"

Horuss carefully extended an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder as she broke down. Only he could scrape the happy-go-lucky exterior without effort and climb in to find the small, lonely youth inside. It was years later and she still yearned to expose her true self around him. She wiped her puffy face, sniffed and leaned on him, praying to all the stars above this wasn't some dream she would wake up from.

"I'm sorry! I've never cried this badly in front of friends befur."

Aranea had to wipe her own tears of sadness.

"Meulin that was the most _beautiful_ friendship story I have ever heard! I'm so glad that you both have reunited under the circumstances!"

"Thank you! And don't worry about me, I cried out of happiness!"

Horuss had to quickly drain his own tears with the custom sweat valves and push Meulin up from his shoulder to catch her attention.

"I did not know I was this missed, otherwise I would have made double the effort to return to you."

"As long as I get to see you more, it's all okay! By the way, what happened to you after all of that? Where did you transfer to?"

Horuss put a hand to his chin, making his own recollection of memories.

"My family actually decided to move back into their old home on the outskirts of town. I think I told you before of how I grew up there with open fields and roaming horses. I was able to further conduct my home schooling and equestrian studies in peace as well as help around the family farm. I only have this year until I am able to go to a university so they decided I should come back and experience this town once more in hopes of reuniting with lost friends and even build my reputation in steam-powered energy. It's been quite the experience."

Meulin wiped her nose with her sweater, sniffed and smiled at him.

"I see! That's so great!"

"I just didn't expect to find you this quickly or even meet the love of my life here."

Meulin's jaw could not drop any lower and eyes could not bulge any wider. She slapped the center of the table and bore into his thick glass with determination.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?! SHARE RIGHT NOW PURRLEASE!"

"Eelmao I already told you it was bangarang buddy! Man you must have reely been out of it this mornin."

"Shush, I want to hear this too!"

Of course Meenah didn't want to be bombarded with information she already knew so she 'snuck away' from the table and watched the beginning of the evening news instead.

"Well it all started when I had ventured far into the forest, not too far from here, to conduct some more research for steam energy and robotic augmentation when I suddenly saw some sort of tribal ritual happenings in front of me. I figured it was for the 'Lost Weaboo' club that I had a gotten a flyer for weeks before but ignored it. That's when I saw _him. _He had approached me, referred to me as 'doll' and asked if I was new around and suddenly I had found myself in a developing friendship! It just seemed so beyond me that I would mingle with such kind but it was all spur of the moment and, well…He _took my breath away."_

Meulin and Aranea put their hands on their cheeks and cooed at him with delight.

"I did not realize he had broken up with his girlfriend that night before we both reached the party. I had been by his side all the way to the hospital and he had finally come clean with me, telling me it was fine if I didn't want to be with him anymore but not after what he did for me. I had decided that the good outweighed the bad and I wanted to give him a second chance. Nobody has made me feel more special than he does!"

Meulin sighed adoringly. Even if people do make mistakes it's up to the person involved to decide if they're worth it. How anyone hated this poor darling was beyond her! All he needed was a bit of love.

"I'm so happy you've found someone! I haven't met Rufioh yet but if he makes you happy then I am behind you one hundred percent!"

"I sincerely appreciate that you have not changed your open mind all of these years."

"You know me!"

She pounded her fist up for emphasis.

"Meulin Leijon the righteous Mage of Heart and protector of love!"

She giggled and he patted her on the shoulder, regressing back to old habits.

"Also, you should give me your number so we can text and stuff! I always kept thinking to myself 'why didn't I just give him my number?' But it wouldn't have mattered beclaws my mom switched phone companies as soon as you left! We were the worst!"

"Well there's no way you're galloping away from me now!"

"Ooh, how I missed your cute horsey puns!"

She squealed and even Aranea couldn't stomach all of the hearts and stars that made explosions all around them.

"Okay, y'all, as much as I like the oozin frondly atmosphere we got goin on here let me direct your attention to what is happenin on our city streets!"

Everyone turned to the TV where a news reporter started to talk about 'people passing out at Halloween night' and 'not the first time this has happened'. They expanded a picture on the top corner, letting the viewer scrutinize bodies dressed up in their costumes passed out in piles on the sidewalk. Meulin's brow furrowed at the thought of the memory when she saw a body being dragged by a mysterious cloaked figure with…heels? Could the two possibly be related?

She shrugged off the eerie feeling and took this opportunity to nudge Horuss.

"How long will you be here?"

"I'm actually not sure. My apartment is across town and while I could go there at any moment Damara knows that Rufioh has been staying there. It just wouldn't be the wisest choice for me. All I know is that she still trots the streets and I don't want to be tempted to give her the same injuries she gave my Ruf! Oh, then I would just be in the wrong and I don't even like getting into confrontations anymore If you want me to be horsenest!"

"You are such a sweetie pie!"

Aranea looked over to the doting pair and intervened.

"You do know that you're welcome to stay here for as long as you like. Trust me, I wouldn't even like to get in her way when I don't know what she's capable of."

"Wait. He doesn't get, like, a cut-off date or anyfin?"

"No! He is a friend and a guest and I have eight spaces to fill! Plus he's helped around the house and I like what he's done, unlike some guppy I know."

Meenah cursed under her breath, something like 'scrod clammit', huddled her limbs close to her body and pouted at the screen while flipping to a channel that held 'college basketball'.

"Now I know where I can find you! Purrhaps we can hang out?"

"That would be utterly majestic."

They both proceeded to exchange numbers on their phones. Aranea took this time to drag Meenah away from the screen to start on homework which she whined and objected. Meulin could only laugh and enjoy her time in the soothing home. She felt much more confident with her best friend back in the picture and it gave her a willingness to face the tasks ahead of her. Who knows, maybe a certain Juggalo would be able to reap the spoils of her happiness.

* * *

"Wait! I don't…but they…and she…and then he…and then together…and then HE…and then they…but she…and he didn't…and who is…wha-…I can't…I don't…NOO_OOOOOO!" _

Meulin gripped the sides of the laptop on Kurloz's lap and lightly shook it, distraught by the ending of their 'Doctor Who Season Two' marathon.

"I WANNA KNOW WHAT CATPUNS NEXT!"

It was around eight thirty the following Friday evening. Kurloz couldn't help but snicker at the dramatic display she was showing. They were both indoors due to the heavy rain and it was a good excuse to get under the warm covers of his bed, she beside the wall. He wore a loose, mauve sweat shirt with black sweat pants while she a ruby pink sweater and white cotton pajama shorts. Her ears, tail, blue jeans and backpack were neatly folded on the work desk while her cat-themed rain boots dried on the side of the doorway.

He did eventually 'find' his phone, much to her 'delight'.

Kurloz ran his fingers through her hair while she faked a sob and wiped off an invisible tear.

"What did I motherfuckin' tell you? Ain't this masterpiece addicting as all wicked shit?"

"Mmhm!"

He chuckled and kissed her forehead.

"You know your drink is damn near frozen, right?"

They had both decided to make hot chocolate with marshmallows in celebration of the last episode but by that time it even started Meulin was too mesmerized to finish half. She looked over and frowned.

"Oops! I'm sorry. You made that fur nothing!"

"Don't fret, baby. I can always whip up more if you wishin' for it."

"I think I'll be okay!"

She laid her head on his shoulder and inhaled his fresh laundry scent. He put his cool fingertips on her chin and lifted her face.

"I thought the whole reason we made it was 'cause you were chilly."

"Well, you could always warm me up instead."

Kurloz scratched behind his head and looked to her bashfully.

"In what way?"

"Move your laptop and you might find out!"

She stuck her tongue out playfully and scooted forward so she could lay flat on the bed. He shut down and closed his personal computer, got up to set it alongside her belongings and walked back only to ease his weight on top of her. They engaged in a brief kiss before she shifted her body so that the tables were turned.

"Hey!"

"'Hey' what?"

She eagerly lifted the back of his head so she could put a pillow behind him.

"Better?"

His smirked before his lips pressed against her jawline and hands caressed her back.

"Wait...!"

He moved back, eyes heavy with licentious thoughts.

"I don't think I can do that. You've teased me far enough."

"But I wanted to warm _you_ up!"

It was too late. One hand made its way behind her head and pushed down so he could silence her small protest. She shuddered when his other hand slithered up beneath the fuzz of her sweater. He sucked on her lower lip, moving onto her cheek and neck.

"But if you let me-"

The hand that tangled in her hair went straight down to her shorts and squeezed, quelling the upcoming sentence short. She whined and felt the hardness of his sweats press against her when he lifted his hips.

"I…!"

She closed her eyes, unable to make constructive sentences in the thick of his passion and it had stopped. He lowered his hips and removed his head from her now reddened neck. Meulin saw his eyes look around his room cautiously and waited for any sort of report.

"He's back home."

"Gamzee?"

"Yeah…"

She saw his head tilt up toward the ceiling. He must have heard some sort of creak and gently moved her body to her backside.

"Wait here."

Meulin saw him walk out of his room and shut the door as she bit her lip in anticipation. The last thing Kurloz wanted to do was let his kin knew she was home with her uncontrollable pitch. But now what was she to do? Did Gamzee even have any idea that she came over on the weekends he wasn't home? She never bothered to ask since this wasn't a problem before. She couldn't very well sneak off because it didn't seem like his way of doing things. After all, he was still the 'boss who paid the cost' of the house.

Kurloz came back and closed the door behind him, dragged his feet across the wooden floorboard and flopped beside her. She rotated to her side and put an elbow on the comforter with a closed fist behind her ear.

"So apparently his meeting was cancelled due to the weather but what _I_ don't understand is why he ain't just sleep the fuck over like he usually does."

"Why does he do that?"

Kurloz shrugged dramatically, face scrunched in irritation.

"It gets him 'closer' to his people so he can be ass deep in questions about our religion before he converts them. I mean, you know; if one motherfucker wants to follow another faith they need all their reassurance that it's the right decision for them. This way he's able to 'make a bond' with them or, you know what I'm not trying to talk about this anymore…"

Meulin snickered and poked his side.

"Someone is a grouch!"

"Whatever."

Meulin decided to move her body on top of him again, lifting his less than agreeable mood. He put his hands on her back and sighed before hearing some sort of rumble from her mouth and looked at her questioningly.

"I know you not purring."

"…Maybe."

"Goddammit."

She found herself pressing her hands to her face, subduing her laughter as to not rouse Gamzee's attention. Her devious intentions kicked in again and wondered if Kurloz would be willing to humor her. She moved her arms beside his head and kissed him tenderly while she felt his unbridled smile. It trailed down to his cheek back to his ear, nibbling softly while he craned his neck. Her hips move downward and suddenly she felt hands claps her shoulders and his ear tug away from her lips so he could face her.

"With _him_ still upstairs?"

"…I don't know."

"You realize that's a different level of freak, right?"

Her spark lit by the forbidden element and she grinned.

"Do you care?"

"Hell no! I could give less fucks about him, I'm more concerned about you. Do_ you_ care about how loud you could get?"

Meulin abruptly cut off all sources of blood to his brain as she lifted her hips and squeezed the stiff form on his cotton sleep wear. Kurloz moved his head back in a pleasurable anguish and bit his lower lip.

"I don't think you have to worry about me."

His head lowered with a leer and smug, parted lips.

"_I think you do_."

He flipped her over, put both hands above her head and pushed his hips down forcefully. Her long nails dug into his hands, mouth parted and eyes averting his starving gaze but interpreting his moving lips.

"_I didn't get to finish what you motherfuckin' started_."

She shut her eyes and quaked at the very thought of him breaking her gently and sending her into a deep, euphoric abyss. She's heard about it, read it, imagined it so many times and even seen it in the comfort of her beds sheets. This wasn't the time or the place, especially with Makara junior doing who knows what above them but the temptation was too great. She cracked one eye open and he took this opportunity to 'speak' once more.

"_What do you want?"_

She teetered over edge and swallowed thickly, voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know."

"_I know what I want."_

Her breath hitched. Why she thought she could play with this man's fire was beyond her.

"What do you want…?"

His teeth clenched for a moment but suddenly parted for the tip of his tongue to slide across his incisors.

"_To hear you scream_."

Her brain short circuited. No longer could she differentiate from fantasy and reality, fallacy and tangibility, left and goddamn right.

"I can't."

She shoved him onto the side of the bed, movements stiff and rigid as she sat up, thoroughly convinced that if he mouthed one more seductive word she would rip both of their clothes apart and bounce on that 'fresh Juggalo dick'.

"I'm so done."

She looked back to her horny and more than confused partner; his head craned to the side and waited for some sort of explanation but all he got was her florid complexion and the words:

"I'm so done!"

"I really don't know what that means, Kit!"

"I've lost all my ability to can_!"_

"Okay, wait a minute…"

Kurloz swiftly lifted his torso upright so his legs could bend on the edge of the bed, hands could intertwine and elbows could rest on his knees all the while looking up at his unbelievably teasing sex kitten.

"What just happened_? _What's wrong?_"_

It looked like she was hyperventilating but he knew better.

"I think I need to go."

"_What?"_

"I don't know if I can handle this pressure."

He ran a hand through his hair, now getting what she was hinting at. He looked up again with guilty face.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm not gonna…well I _am_ gonna…Uh, I just meant that, you know, what I didn't get to do that night! But I'm not about to pressure you into _that _okay?"

"I know that!"

"Huh?"

Now he was really confused.

"Okay, then, what's the problem?"

"I know you respect me and that you won't force me into anything but I feel a lot of temptation around you and I know I just might give into it so I think it is best that maybe we just leave this alone fur a while."

Kurloz looked like his whole face shattered.

"_Meulin_."

Oh no. It had to be serious when Kurloz was referring to her actual first name.

"What you sayin'?"

"I just…I think that I'm too tempted to give myself to you so I just want to maybe cut the yarn short and stop playing with it, you know?"

"No, no I don't know. I don't think I wanna know!"

"I just want things to be a bit paler from now on."

_Paler. _He stood up, put both hands on her hips, leaned close to her face and gave her the most incredulous look she had ever seen on him. His lips had slowly murmured.

"_Does this mean I can't use my tongue no more?"_

"Yes, but-"

"_**WHAT.**_"

Meulin didn't have to hear him to feel the sheer magnitude of the statement and for her to appropriately react with eyes wide and shoulders stiff. Kurloz looked all around his room in terror, as if suddenly his own hellish nightmare had come to life before his very eyes. He blinked and shook his face but to no avail, it was all completely real.

"My baby just banned me from the pussy."

Meulin sighed. She thought he would take this better like the adult he was.

"I think…the walls are closing in."

"Kurloz."

"Ooh shit, I can't breathe."

"Oh my god, Kurloz."

He moved one of his hands towards his neck and clenched like he had just been refused his last drop of water. His face twisted in intense shock and his other hand reached for the bed as he sat down and rocked himself back and forth. The hand on his neck moved away from his body and he stared at it like he was holding some form of his untimely death.

"To be, or not to be, that is the question."

"Please don't kill yourself, Kurloz."

"WHETHER 'TIS NOBLER IN THE MIND TO MOTHERFUCKIN' _SUFFER_,"

"I can't even purrlieve-"

"THE SLINGS AND ARROWS OF OUTRAGEOUS _BULLSHIT!" _

"-this is actually happening."

"OR TO TAKE ARMS AGAINST A SEA OF NINE TO FIVES-"

"Kurloz, would you _kindly _shut your motherfuckin' loud-ass mouth?!"

Said loud mouth looked over to his younger kin that peeked through his doorway and clutched air into his hands.

"Can you _kindly _ask me the right way or risk a motherfuckin' pop to _your_s?"

Meulin took the hint and looked over to the groggy teen. He looked like he had been woken up from all the 'pious noise'. His hair was tangled, face paint messier than usual. He wore a long, loose black t shirt with his favorite polka-dotted pajama pants.

"What kind of mime ass nonsense are you spewing at now? I didn't even know _you spoke like that."_

"A mime's gotta break out of the invisible box someday."

"I'm sorry Gamzee, this is my fault."

She walked over to him and smiled.

"I didn't know you were sleeping."

"Hey, don't trip girl. What even is his motherfuckin' deal?"

"Separation issues."

"TWICE."

"Separation what?"

"It's a long story."

"I ONLY GOT TO TWICE. That's TWO TIMES."

"I liked you better when you didn't say shit."

"Okay but, like, can you please turn on your miracles and preach about unhealthy this all is? It's bad for her, it's certainly bad for my ass-"

"Kurloz, please! If you keep this up my decision might be indefinite!"

He froze. His hands gently balled into fists, eyes barren from anything but anxiety. His teeth grinded, his stomach clenched and in this moment it looked like he was about to unleash an unholy paroxysm that would disease and tear the fabric of existence, consciousness and all essence of life within it.

But what came out was a tiny whine like that of a disciplined child.

"Please don't worry about him. I'll take care of this."

"Are you motherfuckin' sure?"

Gamzee pointed and Meulin turned around to find her darling Kurloz curled up the floor and moving like his bodily functions were decayed and the afterlife was upon him. She looked back at Gamzee with a blank face.

"No."

"Well I ain't gettin' involved so good luck to ya."

She solemnly waved him off as he headed back upstairs, closed the door and cautiously stepped towards her suffocating 'adult'.

"I didn't think this would be a big deal."

Kurloz suddenly sprang up and dusted himself off in the most casual manner.

"It's not."

It was now Meulin's turn to give him her incredulous face.

"What? I can't all up and be dramatic sometimes? You trippin'."

He walked over to the bed, lying down with hands behind his head and eyes closed in a peaceful manner. She could only stand there with the same paralyzed face. Thirty seconds had passed. He finally looked up at her and smacked his teeth.

"C'mon girl!"

"I thought you were serious!"

Meulin sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of anything anymore.

"Listen, just 'cause you about to deprive me of something you and I thoroughly enjoy and didn't get to have enough of doesn't mean I'll like you any less."

Now she just looked sorrowful. Kurloz's expression softened and he extended his arms out.

"C'mere."

She reluctantly lied beside him while his right arm wrapped around her waist and she still feeling bad for her spontaneous decision. He tilted her chin up with his left hand.

"I'm sorry. And if you're wondering I'm actually wearing the smudge–free paint this time."

She curled the sides of her lips into a thin, tiny smile.

"So, you're not actually upset?"

"Define 'upset'."

She chortled and moved closer, arms bent between them and forehead resting on his chest. They lied like this for a good amount of time, she feeling his faint heart beat through the thick sweatshirt. She knew the room was still freezing and it might have been due to the sudden outbreak of emotion but she felt warmer in his arms than before. She wanted to fall asleep but there were suddenly bursts of questions that came to mind, some she didn't know could be answered right away.

She felt his hand squeeze her side and she looked up to see his drowsy smile.

"You okay?"

"Mmhm. I'm just thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"Questions to ask you."

"Oh?"

His brows shot up, interest piqued.

"What do you want fur Christmas?"

"Not much."

She frowned. He answered that rather quickly.

"Why not?"

"Well usually around that time I've already dipped. Me and Gamzee take a long vacation. It helps us relax and it doesn't give people here incentive to dig up our past."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Christmas it too close to the death of our family."

She cringed, regretting ever opening her mouth.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"I know."

He brushed some strands of hair away from her face and cupped her cheek.

"It's all good. Everyone just makes it up to me on my birthday."

Her mouth widened in shock. How is it that after all this time she still didn't know when that was?

"January sixth, 'cause I know you wanna ask. When is yours?"

"August second. It passed so you don't have to worry."

He nodded and kissed her forehead

"What else?"

"Um…I think I wanted to ask how you felt about what's happening between Damara and Rufioh."

This, she thought, was the perfect chance to analyze his personal views on relationships while being discreet.

"I can tell you right now that I'm waiting for all the facts."

He retracted the hand from her cheek and moved it across his lips like he zipped them up and threw away the key. D'oh! Of course he would wait like a good person. She started to feel like Meenah from when she stayed over with Aranea and Horuss.

"Will I be able to see you again befur Christmas break? I mean my plane reservations to see my mom fur the last two week of December have already been made. I'm going to be away to visit extended family at thanksgiving and I think I might get a winter job befur I leave. I didn't want to make anymore plans without knowing what your schedule was going to be like-"

"Shit."

He put one hands over his face and sighed heavily.

"It's okay! We have six week to figure it out!"

"Four."

"What?"

He looked to her somberly.

"We have four, Kit. We leave to stay with our grandparents for a month to make up for thanksgiving and come back after the New Year. Not to mention all the work imma have to do before I even leave. They are gonna expect my shit to be solid and I can't fuck with that otherwise…"

Kurloz groaned again, realizing the magnitude of his workload. Meulin swatted his hand away and kissed the top of his nose.

"You'll get through it."

"I better. Otherwise I have more disappointment weighing me down and last time I motherfuckin' checked it's about that time for my back to be breaking-"

"Oh shush you!"

She pushed his shoulders playfully and he grinned before he joined their lips in a chaste kiss. After a moment, Meulin found herself talking on them, not wanting to pull away.

"Kurzorz?"

He chuckled and squeezed her shoulder to signal his attention.

"Does it ever get lonely down here?"

She swore a whole minute had passed before he leaned back from her touch and looked at her. She could see the stir of emotions that filled his eyes but his face was neutral, almost as if trying to find the right expression to show her. She started to grow concerned when his eyes turned downcast. The wait seemed like an eternity but he finally moved his lips for her.

"Not anymore."

She smiled hard which turned into a boisterous grin. One of her free hands threaded in his hair and her body moved closer to his, hopefully feeding him her powerful cheeriness. He eventually returned the sentiment and kissed her once more before settling comfortably on his bed and closing his eyes. She looked behind her to catch the time; only eleven o' seven in the evening. Both were too relaxed to turn the light off so she settled with putting her arm around his waist and waiting for the precious sands of sleep to take hold of her happy dreams.

* * *

_Ship._

That's what she called their liaison now-a-days. They were in a ship, sailing away aimlessly on the oceans of wanderlust, both not knowing which emotional coast they would steer upon. And for a time, it scudded between the deep, tropical waters of halcyon. In the middle of November they were able to meet for one last time before they both prepared for their future travels. While spending time eating homemade macaroni and cheese, roasted turkey and pecan pie with her fond grandparents she would coop herself upstairs in the vacant guest bedroom and make long lists about what to get Kurloz for his day of birth.

The list toppled between easy and just plain silly. Sweaters, t shirts, new shoes, face paint, magic cooking dolls, hair pouf spray, watches, new recipes for pies with mint, mint cologne, fire-breathing mint dragons from the far corners of middle earth, it went on and on and on. She would write small fan fictions of the day she would hand it over.

'Mewlin shyly handed Purrloz the bestest birthday present of all and it was-' Nothing.

She thought and thought and thought until it was physically impossible for her to dwell on one subject for the amount of time she spent thinking about it. She had to remember that this was the first person she actually trusted with her mind and her body. He respected her and made her feel special and always made sure she was safe, healthy and happy. He made her laugh and even made her cry but the bad definitely outweighed the good. Even if he has his faults, so did she and he always seemed to make his up ten-fold with his signature smile and her saccharine nick name.

It worked every time.

The month of December called for pouring rain and sticky snow. It allowed her to get closer to her 'gillfronds' as well as Horuss. They would usually stay in Aranea's apartment to play card games, watch TV, beheld the latest steam-powered creation that still needed bits and pieces of work and even drink in the comfort of people they could trust. She had even met Rufioh one evening when he recovered from his injuries and when it was 'scary movie night.' Sometimes she would sneak little texts to Kurloz asking how he was and what he was doing. He would always reply and give her a happy emoticon in the process.

Eventually Meenah had spilled to Horuss about her connection with Kurloz and one evening, when they were in his guest bedroom alone, catching up and reminiscing about old times he had asked her:

"What is the nature of your relationship?"

The question was familiar and she had a different, more confident answer to share.

"We are on a lovely green and purple vessel, sailing in the night with all the stars and moons and to be seen not by the naked eye but that of our hearts!"

It was mushy and vague enough so that it seemed like something more than companionship but not enough to put an official title on it. She was okay with this and knew that Horuss was as well. Sometimes she would see texts from Kurloz, asking about her day and if everything was 'blessed on her side of the states.' He and Gamzee had flown to Detroit, Michigan where the rest of his family and friends was. She had asked him what it was like and he sent a picture via attachment. It was from outside his window where he stayed in an upscale hotel downtown. The blankets of snow made her yearn for him to return and intake that sharp smell of spearmint. She wanted to lie on his bed and talk and laugh and even let his hands roam where they pleased. Maybe less of the latter because of all the Halloween candy she had been snacking on. Her curves were becoming more noticeable and a small amount of fat had formed around her midsection.

On days where she felt incredibly lonely she would go inside her bathroom, strip herself of her clothes and stare blankly into the mirror. What _did_ make her so special to him? What made her so attractive that he would make a fuss just because he wasn't able to 'taste' her anymore? She didn't really look like a model, but she wasn't repugnant either. She was plain like everybody else. Her height was shorter than most with stocky curves all around. Not one feature made her go 'I can see why he likes me.' She stared hard, twirled all around, pulled her hair up, experimented with different make up, took it all off and examined her heart shaped face, bright eyes, pouty lips and button nose. It was still nothing out of the ordinary to pursue, nothing at all.

The last week of school, on a Tuesday evening he had messaged her. He had sent her a long text saying how nothing has changed. It all looked the same, even from ten years ago when he could recall. Even with all the blankets of pure snow the decay was noticeable, right there in his face; houses burned down that had been sent aflame, buildings that had been vacant and boarded up, signs torn down only to see the iron framework and so on. The only signs of life were within small businesses, corner stores, liquor stores, gas stations and the multi colored graffiti that embellished most of it. He would take multiple pictures for her but each time he shifted through it he wasn't able to find anything truly special.

He despised it. He said so because it reminded him of constantly looking into a mirror. It made him smoke more cigarettes than usual. She had told him not think that way and if he really wanted to he could find something of deep value.

That was when on the following Wednesday he had sent her an abundance of pictures of beautiful art that covered the whole of houses and yards on several streets. He had told her it was called 'The Heidelberg project'. The first time he had visited was so long ago but he still got overwhelmed and teared up over each new piece of work he discovered. His favorite was a house littered with polka dots. She had been smiling over the mass of angles he had shot and sent to her. It probably didn't compare to seeing it in real life, and he said she was right.

Polka dots. He was becoming predictable.

There was a legitimate White Castle, he had texted and she asked if he had eaten there. He said no and to never trust the actual restaurants there to produce the same quality product they put in stores. But breakfast at a particular Coney Island was to 'motherfuckin' die for'.

He had taken shots of the old Faygo factory and the logo in bright red letters. He had also taken a self-portrait of himself with the title 'Faygo Joe' and typed 'Kicking back the wicked swill of life! Whoop Whoop!'. She didn't stop laughing for minutes.

And oh how he raved about downtown. Sure it was below freezing but he had said one day in the summer time when everyone would be by the water front they would spot the people on wave runners or wave to neighboring Canada or even go inside the Renaissance Center and maybe watch a movie or kick back and eat at Subway and just…

…be themselves.

Was it truly absence that made the heart grow fonder? Friday evening she had exchanged presents with all of her friends. They had each gotten little homemade trinkets in the form of their horoscope symbol with an individual note about how much they've impacted her final year so far. She had gotten a make-up kit from Meenah, A green knit sweater from Aranea and a homemade scrap metal kitten from Horuss. Eventually, after the empty pizza boxes and drinking games she has asked them what she should get for Kurloz on his birthday.

"Maybe a nice, engineered silent translator would suit his needs?"

"Ooh, or maybe a gift card to Spooky-R-US!"

"Gurl, you know men are shrimple. They either want a sweater, some jeans or some sneakers. Don't make this too hard on yourshelf!"

Maybe Meenah was right; she was making this too hard on herself. Perhaps the error of her findings was just that, finding. If you cannot acquire it, then there is no choice but to create it.

It would be a homemade present, just like she had done with her friends. It would be perfect.

She collected all her material that very weekend before flying home with Mog on a Monday morning back to Seattle, Washington. The weather was wet and rainy as usual. The snow liked to stick one day and melt the other. She was always okay with this, being more of an 'indoor cat' herself. She had missed the moisture in the air and the liberal culture of the northwest.

Christmas had come, her sorely missed mother decorating the tree and surrounding the skirt with last minute presents. They lived quietly in the university district, drinking merlot, watching old movies and chatting about life, not once mentioning anything in a redder quadrant.

She was also okay with this. This was about them and not about the secret loved ones who waited when they would depart.

Meulin had gotten a silver necklace with a small diamond heart, pale green butterfly earrings, a new red-violet, short cocktail dress with dark green ballet slippers, an abundance of cat sweaters, skirts, shoes, new cat toys for Mog, food, drink, celebration and above all else, love.

She had cried that night. She cried in sensitive hours of midnight, cried because she didn't know how _his_ mother treated him, or whether or not they were even close or what his whole family was like. She cried because she had too much to be thankful for. She cried because all he had was a chance to do well for his lineage but constantly had to run away from the reminder of its existence. He kept his spirits high, his prayers soft and his word stable as best he could.

How long, she pondered would he keep up this normal guise until he confessed about his heavy burden, his jagged health and the peace that seemed so far away from the 'disgusting noise'? When would he look for someone to confide in about any of this? When would he finally tear down his wall and let them help look for the peace he wasn't sure waited for him? Who would be his outlet? She would. She wanted to. She would want to be the very anchor to keep him leveled, the person he could tell everything, the co-captain of their unhurried liner ship so that they could smoothly make their course into a more evolved and torrid island.

By the time New Year's Eve had come, she had held her hand crafted gift on her bosom and swore to herself that he would have her and she would make sure of it. She would be the one to accept him for what he was, for who he was and what he represented. She would not be swayed by outside sources or the perception of others. She would earn his love through devotion and genuineness.

By midnight, her mother and she waited on the riverfront downtown with clumps of people in their jackets, hats and gloves. She wore the green sweater Aranea had given to her along with some dark fuchsia lipstick from Meenah and a blue ribbon for a ponytail holder that Horuss had given to her just because.

The fireworks shot up and lit the sky from the boat in the still waters. She could see small puffs of breath from the cold while she typed on her handheld: 'Happy New Year's Kurzorz, I miss you.' His handle was idle and she had forgotten his was another three hours away. Eventually he replied around two forty five in the morning, she staying up to doodle and watch international soap operas with subtitles. She had told him about her night and he replied that he had stayed indoors with his brother and family due to the weather. But he missed her too. He missed her a lot.

[TUESDAY, JANUARY 1ST 2:51 AM] NINJETTE to RYDAS PERSONAL: ヽ (=^・ω・^=)ノDon't worry! I will fly back to you safe and sound!

She left on a Friday morning, well fed, kissed and hugged by her mommy dearest and was seen off, back to the small town of Beforus where she could finally reunite with everyone. She looked outside her window seat, mid-flight, and admired the blends of pastels that merged into a promising, incandescent sunrise. Her gift, which lay neatly on her lap, was wrapped with a pale purple paper courtesy of her mother. It had an abundance of gold and green ribbons made into spirals in the very center. She thought about their ship and could see it with her heart. She watched it make patterns on the clouds and glitter in front of the orange sphere in the sky until she was lulled by its warmth and brightness and finally fell asleep.

Kurloz Makara's birthday was only two days away.

* * *

Meulin stood proudly on the doorstep in front of the Makara's domestic brick home; red-violet dress lustrous, forest green slippers pristine, butterfly earrings and necklace enriched by the poly-chromatic clouds that reflected its color in the windy eventide. Her hair was straightened but still maintained its volume, reaching down to lower back. Her bright eyes were darkened by mascara and eyeliner and her lips shimmered with spring green lip gloss. A small, grey and white kitten themed hand bag dangled loosely on a gold chain around her wrist. She inhaled, thanking all her lucky stars that the lights were still on and caught the subtle scent of lavender and chamomile on her skin. She had made it just in time, considering he didn't answer his phone from the time she got home to then.

But she would not falter. Surely there was some reason for why this was. Who knows, he might have actually lost his phone this time. The last text he sent gave her only brief directions to be at his home around seven thirty on Sunday evening and to be ready for the 'big event'.

This was _his_ day so what he wanted to happen she would make it so. She, chilly with her present the size of a text book on her bust, extended one arm and knocked twice on the door. She was greeted not by the big man himself but the still-teen who produced mad 'nite-magic'.

"Damn sister, aren't you the fizz of the motherfuckin' Red pop!"

He hugged her while she patted his back with one arm and tried to politely secure her gift with the other.

"Hi Gamzee!"

He released his gentle hold on her and both entered the doorway, she closing it. She couldn't lie and say that she wasn't disappointed by the lack of festivity around the house; no streamers, balloons, ripped package wrapping or even guests! Gamzee was headed towards the kitchen when she started to grow concerned.

"Gamzee, where's Kurloz?"

He had turned back to her, confused for a moment but nodded in a sudden remembrance.

"Shit, my fault. I forgot you have to read lips."

"It's fine! I figured after our last time alone you would furget. It happens a lot when people don't see me regularly so I'm used to it."

He cracked a smile at her and grabbed a plate of half-eaten 'Sopor Pie' with fork impaled on the top like a trident to a whale.

"Kurloz is gone."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Didn't you hear? Ah fuck! Bad choice of words."

She laughed it off and pressed her gift closer to her beating chest.

"Yeah, he packed his shit and drove over at the warehouse for the party this weekend and from what I heard so far it's been fresh to motherfuckin' death!"

"What warehouse?"

"You should up and know it by its proper name; Club Posse."

She furrowed her brows. She thought he worked at a legitimate establishment and not some distribution center for rent.

"Trust me, it sounds ugly but once you inside everything's dope as all fuck! I went for my eighteenth last year and boy I can remember that freshness like it was yesterday's breeze."

His eyes started to droop and drool oozed out of the corner of his mouth with bits and pieces of mint frosting scattered. Meulin giggled faintly.

"That must have been nice."

"Shit yeah, sis! But, uh, mister moon glorious told me you would prolly come 'round at this time and yes his management more than likely snatched up his phone so there wouldn't be 'unworthy distractions from greasy motherfuckers' and he would be the pampered birthday pimp, declared 'Prince Kurilla'. Anyway your 'password' is…hold up…"

Gamzee plopped his plate down, skidded to the front of the stairs and descended while she wiggled her clear painted toes in apprehension. Meulin envisioned the sudden prospect of meeting all the staff as well as all of his friends for the celebration. She made small figure eights on her wrapping paper and hoped it had been fun for him so far.

She saw Gamzee jog back up and straighten his arm to hand her Kurloz's freshly washed skeleton jacket.

"This is the 'password'. Wear it at all times and don't lose it or you are fucked."

She set her present down on the clean dining table, put her bare arms inside the sleeves and ogled the lose fit. It was the first thing she had seen of him for almost two whole months. Gamzee tapped her shoulder and she looked back up to his sleepy face while he directed his finger towards her parcel.

"You want me to keep that for you? While you might enjoy the magic all up in that piece chances are that won't be so lucky."

She thought about it, not having realized it would come to this. She had wanted to see his face when he tore off the wrapping. There was no way she wanted to risk losing it…

"I think I'll do that! Um, if he ends up coming back and I'm not here can you tail him not to open it until I do? I want to experience his surprise!"

"Yeah, he'd love that."

She smiled and looked once more at her present before he straightened it out on the table and plucked a stray, white hair from the paper.

"See? I'll guard it with all the pins I got 'round here."

"Thank you!"

"No thang, chicken wang."

She giggled and zipped up the jacket before putting her hands in the pockets.

"Can I spit an inquiry your way?"

"Sure!"

Meulin balanced on the balls of her feet and waited for his question.

"How long have he and you been…you know."

She stopped and her heart rate increased. Did Kurloz not tell him about her all this time?

"How long has he been making words with those hoodlum lips of his?"

"Um."

She scratched a neatly plucked eyebrow in nervousness. Well that was unexpected. What was the right answer? What if she said something she wasn't supposed to? Her lips parted with a small anxiety.

"I don't remember."

"Oh."

Gamzee only nodded and leaned his weight on the table top with one hand. She swore a flash of something filled his eyes before it left just the same.

"You want some pie before you dip?"

"No, I'm fine. Where am I going, though?"

"Oops! Almost forgot. You have to take the metro across the bridge. Number thirty, I think. The club is about two hours away from you but the good news is that you'll have to only take one bus. It's dark as fuck now so, I mean, I don't know…you want me to help you out? I am not doing one single motherfuckin' thing around here as it is."

"Would you? I would hate to get lost just beclaws I couldn't read the right sign!"

"I don't think anyone could miss that place even if the sky threw meteors around as a distraction. Let me grab my coat real quick."

He walked over and across the stairs, into a hallway beside it, she only presuming led to his bedroom. She didn't even think that Gamzee could be right above them this whole time. It made her wonder if he could ever sneak in and hear bits and piece of conversation well into the night. She walked over to the dining chair and sat, put Kurloz's hood over her head and imagined the gorgeous sheets of snow she had seen in his pictures. It had seemed so peaceful but if someone were to be around it, or even touch it for too long they could freeze with their very life on the line. What a cruel fate for someone who just wanted to enjoy the simplicity of nature.

Gamzee walked back over to the doorway with an indigo winter coat, put on his black flip flops with socks, patted his pockets for keys and opened the door for Meulin. She walked over and thanked him before stepping out into the now darkened night sky. She inhaled the crisp breath of the New Year and became energetic at the thought that she was only mere hours away from the person she wanted to see most.

* * *

"Aight, you remember what I said?"

"Yes."

"If they ask for any validation on you, let them behold your princely garb and if they don't budge tell 'em you're there for the 'Dark Carnival.' And if they really don't let your pretty ass in then just tell them the 'subjugglator' sent you. They can_not_ say no."

"Okay."

"I'm only gonna ask this once 'cause my bus ride home might be here any minute. Do you want me to get you in?"

They both looked over to the ginormous night club in front of them. It was around ten thirty in the evening, they having departed around eight and waited half an hour for the bus to even arrive which meant more anticipation for poor Meulin. They had taken the long route all around town and finally crossed the bridge over the water where they saw nothing but fields and darkness that surrounded the edge of Beforus.

"No, I think I can do it. The entrance is just right there? in the center?"

"Yeah, where you see that long-ass line forming so you best kick it into high gear before it gets any longer."

"Okay. Thank you."

"No prob, sis. You need anything else?"

In all honesty she did want him to stay and walk her inside and help her find Kurloz just so she wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. But she noticed his stifled yawns and sleep bags under his eyes. The 'Sopor Pie' must have been taking effect and she didn't want to bother him with her small intimidation.

No one was going to hold her hand forever.

"No. Thank you so much, Gamzee, I appreciate it."

"Just have fun for me!"

"Wait, I didn't get to ask! Why aren't you joining him?"

"I celebrated enough when we went out of town. He understands."

"Okay! Go on, I'll be fine!"

"Aight! Catch you later my little _neden_!"

She pressed her arms close to her body as she made sure Gamzee crossed the road just in time for the bus to arrive. She would have to ask what 'neden' was another time. She saw him jog to a window seat on the deserted public transport and waved to her while she did the same and watched her only source of support leave before her very eyes.

The frigid January air expanded her chest and left her breathing harsher than before. 'Club Posse' Looked like two department stores stacked up on one another. Its plethora of windows brightened intensely with various, purple neon lights that lit up the pitch blackness that surrounded it, followed by the abundance of cars parked any sort of way with tents and booths on any space. The debris they were on looked like it stretched about half the size of a football field. She could see clusters of people leaving their cars and looked like they came from all walks of life; some obvious Juggalos and Juggalettes, others more affluent with suits and ties, dresses and heels. Either way, she felt that her own attire was completely inaccurate.

She put one foot in front of the other and felt the cold, sharp gravel poke the bottom of her ballet slippers. The ruffles of her dress tickled her bare legs. She blinked from the now harsh gusts of wind that threatened to ruin her make up. The faint smell of lamiaceae and tea was long gone. She rubbed her lips together, thoroughly tempted to lick them but maintained self-control. She passed the first column of cars in a row of ten that made a straight, spacious walking area. She was finally able to see some of the advertisement for the booths that was close by. 'Free Tarot Readings', 'Seventy nine cent bottles of Faygo: Every flavor under the double-rainbow' and, 'Dank-ass Reggie'. The lady behind the tarot booth looked around sixty years old with poorly applied eye liner, thin strings of blond hair in a ponytail and body stocky as a plum. She began to wave at Meulin, exposed her lack of teeth and made cat calls to her which she only shoved her hands in _his_ pockets and continued onward.

Some Juggalos with braided hair, baggy attire and alcohol began to wobble and sway in her direction. The scruffier of the two caught her gaze and wiggled his fingers at her with red cup still in hand to which she just smiled nervously. A man decked out in red, urban attire began to mess with the hydraulics in his matching, sparkly whip. Others sat with the roofs or windows down to talk to the other guests who happened to be either drunk or another form of intoxication. Some unkempt man tried to sell small trinkets window to window. One foot in front of the other, Meulin thought, this part would be over soon.

But what was wrong with this part? This was part of _his_ culture. She had no right to dislike it.

Meulin looked back to the street, the open field and the few sparkling beads of light that spanned over the aphotic sky. This was her last chance to turn back. After this, she could never escape.

And she wouldn't. The decision was final and she would face this head on, even if she wasn't prepped beforehand. She found herself behind a couple both dressed to the nines; a beefy man in a black, suede suit and the woman in a tight fitting, silk dress and black heels. The glitters of diamonds that surrounded her neck, wrists and ankles soothed Meulin's spirit with its brilliant contrast of pitch black surrounding it.

It had been at least five minutes until the line had shortened in her favor with only three more bundles of people in front of her. She could now look up to observe the pale grey bricks of concrete with myriads of fissure and strings of thin, black wire that hung around and above the large windows like uncoordinated, painted spider web.

Small pulsations pressed up against her feet. With every thump, unwelcomed needles shot into her nerves and made her chest fill with unnatural warmth. A bright, soft light from the elevated doorway illuminated the dark couple in front of her as Meulin noticed a hoard of security, three on each side of the entrance and above them fluctuating neon lights of three distinct shades of purple. She saw the woman lift her slender wrist, diamond bracelet flittering with tints to reveal a small lilac colored print in the shape of an emoticon.

':o)'

She deemed it quaint and comfortingly like him to do such a thing. The thickset bouncer, taller than Meulin by about two feet nodded to the couple as they ascended three flights of metal stairs and into the brightly lit entrance of the night club. She could only stare in awe for a moment when a beefy hand snapped its fingers in front of her face in impatience.

"Sorry! I was told that I could get in by showing you this jacket."

The bouncer's arm extended, finger pointed to the ground and revolved to indicate that she turn around for him. Her hands rose while she made her slow rotation and kept her head down to avoid the gaze of two older, raver-themed Juggalettes. She looked at the bouncer before completing her three fourths of a turn and he nodded in a more satisfied manner, pointing both hands to the entrance for clear access.

She mouthed a polite thank you and stepped on each cool metal stair to the entrance with sudden anxiety. She breathed in and exhaled, making a long step inside.

The long, rectangular hallway was about the length of one cargo container. The walls looked like they were made of foil with small lights on the corners that created the exact same pattern from outside. She looked at her disfigured shape on one wall, unable to recognize herself as she made it halfway across. It began to get stuffy while wafts of smoke undulated on the corners of the passage out, emulating the coiling tentacles of octopi. The couple in front of her had taken a sharp right the while a large, dark group stood crowded in front. She was only a good ten steps away from the womb that pulsated around every living fiber in her being.

This was it; Meulin Leijon had successfully infiltrated the cause of her wretchedness.

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

The only three parts of her anatomy she knew existed in this moment was her palpitating heart, dry lungs and pounding feet. The crowd in front loomed with shadows of umbra and penumbra created by the only light source in the room which were the excess of strobe lights high above on the ceiling. They seemed to flash the same, three distinct colors; fuchsia, amethyst and heliotrope. There were clouds of smoke that floated aimlessly in the air and seemed to carry the smell of weed, cigarettes, and perfume. It spoiled her senses. She could barely see above the group of darkness which added to her anguish.

She turned right, suddenly wanting to go where the couple had went and saw an open, metal stairway that reached halfway up the enormous ceiling and extended vertically around the sickly grey walls. There was no way she would fight through a sweaty, bunched up clique so she took her chances and forced her vibrating legs to become mobile. They made it up the first few steps with little difficulty. Her hands held onto to the railing for support as the atmosphere suddenly became too overwhelming. The steps now looked dangerously skeletal and at any moment she could slip and fall, that being the end of it.

She inhaled again, looking up at the mass of well-dressed civilians on the upper half of the stairs and put one foot in front of the other, one breath in and one breath out, one second at a time.

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

Meulin made it halfway before she was slowed down by guests who engaged in loud discourse with drinks in hand like they were in their own universe. She blinked frequently due to the saturated lights of heliotrope that contaminated her sight. She decided to calm her throbbing heart with fast breathing and looked out to the floor. The seizure of lights would reveal a series of bodies in what looked like a stop motion picture. Some people had already taken off their shirts due to the muggy air, some posted on the walls, others on high platforms that she couldn't distinguish clearly. A ray of amethyst damaged her field of vision and she decided this was enough.

She cautiously tip toed around and between the pairs of bodies that either leaned on opposite sides of the steps or in any other position with the same amount of space between them. She ducked under the first couple's vision, absorbed in their discussion. Her body squeezed beside a man in the center of a step who talked to a female resting casually on the railing. The third couple wouldn't be as forgiving. She had accidently stepped on a woman shoe, which she didn't realize was her open toes until it was too late. Meulin put her hands up in an apology and cringed as she scolded her with cat shaped eyes painted with black shadow, greasy face and thin, wrinkled mouth that glinted sharply. The lighting created a nasty drama on her face and Meulin begged for the visual nightmare to end.

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

It was too much. She fled from the scene, skipped steps by pairs, bumped into body parts while they bore their judgments skin deep in the corner of her eyes. She slipped on the third to last step and bumped her lower leg which left a horizontal gash in the front. The endorphins eventually kicked in to relieve her of the shock. She fluttered her long eye lashes to get used to the swarm of upscale visitors and brightened, white balls of lights that illuminated the corners of the spacious metal walk way. There was a red door immediately to her right and a long, tinted glass that stretched to the far corner at the end. She couldn't see inside but it wasn't her priority. She walked to a space in front of the safer guarded railing and was finally able to scope the vicious grandeur.

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_All these chicks poppin' pussy _

_I'm just poppin' bands_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_These chicks clappin'_

_And they ain't using hands_

Her pupils dilated. The whole club was packed with Juggalos on every corner. Some swished clothing around in a helicopter, others engaged in spewing Faygo around to cool down. Some danced, jumped, jerked and squatted, completely off the consistent tempo she felt all around her body. It violated every inch, making her hitch her breath when not wanted, shiver from the constant feeling of someone's fingertips on her, swallow from the protrusion in her throat and keep the unnatural warmth inside of her chest that she urged would just go away. Everyone looked young, old, fat, thin, strung out, pregnant, sober, and even conscious of the disorder that ravished her very core.

She tried desperately not to hyperventilate when she saw one man shake a liter of black beverage on a voluptuous woman, elevated on a silver, circular platform, bent over and convulsing her legs on a _stripper pole. _

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_All these chicks poppin' pussy _

_I'm just poppin' bands_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_These chicks clappin'_

_And they ain't using hands_

They were _everywhere._ She didn't notice until the faint silhouettes of girls became distinguishable and were scattered throughout the floor. Some did rotating tricks and others danced sensually and twirled their thick bodies like a shrewd ocean. Everything suddenly reminded her of a catastrophic thunder storm with wild currents and an uncontrollable fear of it all. The blood that trickled down her leg had slithered around the side of her foot and she squirmed when the drop reached the center.

The DJ on a wide, elevated platform of his own held his red cup in the air while others did the same. Mouths opened wide in delight and eyes seemed to reflect the same indoctrinating wavelengths composed of light. It demanded their submission with its pulchritude and debauchery.

This is what _he_ had meant.

_Short hair like Nia Long_

_Loose ones, she don't need a loan_

_She start twerking when she hear her song_

_Stripper pole; her income_

_We get trippy and then some_

_So nasty when she rollin'_

_She put that ass off in my hands_

_I remote control it_

Meulin felt a hurried sickness that brewed in the pit her stomach. Her sides twinged with pain and she clasped the railing for dear life as to not faint in front of the faceless, voided shadows that surrounded her. She finally licked her lips and messily spread the glitter around the corners of her mouth. A scene began to unfold before the haze that obstructed her sight. Clusters of men in dark, baggy clothes and uniform face paint had made their way to the north of the club, undetected, and had formed a group, marching down to the vacant center like tenacious soldiers. There was a large object in the center of them that moved when they did but was carefully guarded and top was exposed to which she could see a brilliance of amber.

But what did that matter? Where was _he?_ She couldn't spot his curly hair, his lean frame, his signature smile, none of it. His very essence was removed, or so she thought.

The group of men had stopped their marching in the center of the club where the groups of Juggalos and Juggalettes gathered to witness the prestige of their imperial monarch.

_She give me dome when the roof gone_

_At the K.O.D. she leave with me_

_She got friends, bring three._

_I got drugs, I got drank_

_Bend it over, Juicy J gon' poke it like wet paint_

_You say no to ratchet pussy_

"_**MAKARA CAN'T**_!"

The men had now step sided to reveal a throne chair, threaded with thin, scintillating fabric on the edges and mauve silk cushions in the center. Prince _Makara _was laid back in a torpid manner; his back was curved atop the back and seat with one ankle resting on his knee. He wore pitch black sneakers, loose, grey jeans that ended above his lower leg and a white belt to fasten it close to his abdomen. His torso was adorned with an amaranthine silk shirt and zircon yellow buttons. Long, thin strands of golden chains hung around neck. One arm was extended, hand clutched at the armrest and fingers garnished with silver rings. The other hand held a cigar up to his tilted head, thunder clouds of smoke gliding in every direction. Atop the neat curls of hair did he display a forty carat gold crown embellished with jewels all in tints and shades of purple. The neutral vapor moved to expose his libidinous grin and lidded eyes brutally devoured with the flashes of fuchsia, amethyst and heliotrope.

_Racks errwhere, they showin' racks, I'm throwin' racks_

_In the V.I.P, rubber on I'm stretchin' that_

_Rich niggas tippin', broke niggas lookin'_

_And it ain't a strip club if they ain't showin' pussy_

The smoke that surrounded her placid frame deflowered every single precious thought about her beloved Kurloz Makara. Her lips opened and pursed with narcosis, arms lifeless and body limp with the removal of her visual purity. It was then she had realized a forgotten, crucial aspect about their sailing ship. While they were together she could not claim him for her very own to damn him of the actions she witnessed. She did not establish rules to impede on his tyranny or announce a decree on his future behavior. No matter what he did, or thought about doing or would do she had no right to withhold his quest for intimate exploration.

She might as well be the mistress among many, each wrapped around his band covered finger.

The soft, majestic aurora on her prince had faded. Suddenly the stench of everything hit her at once and her stomach seethed with a will to expel the very aspect that threatened to keep her reality altered.

A long raven-haired vixen emerged from the south of dark coils; face painted with strings of soft silver cloth that barely covered her salacious, shimmering body. She strode towards the throne and emphasized her exaggerated limbs and curves.

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_All these chicks poppin' pussy _

_I'm just poppin' bands_

Meulin wanted to shout 'NO' in every way she possibly could. She wanted to scream, yell, kick and whine for it all to stop, for her to wake up from the mad, dark carnival but there was no way to achieve it. In that moment she knew she wanted him to herself and to not let any tainted souls near. She wanted to capture her dark prince and possess anyone else in her knife-edged claws and feral teeth.

But how could she?

The sultry vixen's mane swished and shaped around her contours, sticky with sweat and carbonated beverage. The shadows revealed more of her milky skin, long arms that reached upward and black, eight inch heels. She moved like a goddess under the abused eyes of a mage, a mere witch of a human that had been tricked by her own illusions, but no longer. She was free to visually gorge on truth while her body yearned to remove the leftover falsehoods.

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_These chicks clappin'_

_And they ain't using hands_

She was more to him, was she not? Their precious 'ship' wasn't something anyone could easily rupture. His fair words rang inside her body betwixt the discord.

'You.'

'Whatever you want this to be, it will be.'

'_Not Anymore.'_

Were these glorious strings of words that silently grazed upon her abandoned waters a spell itself? Was it just enough for him to hold her spirit, believe in her mind and taste the cherished bond from her lips? And was it just enough to not be obligated to open his heart and expose the last blankets of pure snow? Was it the gathering of lawlessness, the indulgence of turmoil, the self-detriment that he did not want her to see…

…was it his very definition?

It was only the half of her woes. The seconds like aching vibrations ticked and stretched in the far reaches of her mind. Hours, days and even months were recollected and brought together in a small hope. His chuckles, the strokes of his hair, the small confessions, his outbursts of joy and even anguish, his selflessness and devotion, his charm and humor, all of it flashed in a pace that seemed like time had stopped.

Was it enough?

Nobody was free to tell her what was up from down, left from right, what she saw with her eyes from what she felt in her heart, the visual release of innocence from the physical release of ignorance.

She saw her dark prince slip from his throne and sway in a confident stride that matched the rhythm of his beckoning concubine. They had finally met; her turning round and gyrating mercilessly while he clutched the side of her curves and expelled fumes of death, licking his teeth and grinded attentively like she was something to adore.

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_All these chicks poppin' pussy _

_I'm just poppin' bands_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_Bandz a make her dance_

_These chicks clappin'_

_And they ain't using hands_

Meulin needed to vomit.

The thick crowd of people had danced closer to the royal pair while she slapped one hand on her messy lips and pushed herself violently from the grotesque display. It drilled holes into her skull. She stomped towards the stairs in a sloppy manner, scurried down the now vacant, skeletal stairway and flung her body across the edge of the tin hallway. Her visual blob of a figure amplified her gastric misery while the few people she ran passed and the scattered few on the parking lot had been reduced to shapes and outlines.

Meulin ran as fast as she could away from it all.

She had eventually found the darkly lit bus stop, lurched herself over an array of dry bushes and emptied out the waste of her outlook.

_She would be the one to accept him for what he was, for who he was and what he represented __**in every way imaginable, without fault and without judgment. **_

It emptied…

_She would not be swayed by outside sources or the perception of others, __**especially those relating to his very upbringing. It will be treated as equal and praised as such.**_

…and emptied.

_She would earn his love through devotion and genuineness, __**even If his words, actions, and emotions are unjust, unlawful and harming to her very person. **_

She emptied until she dry heaved and nothing but fresh acid remained. Her eyes were barren like the snow that could eradicate the whole of human existence. She leveled her breathing, wiped off a long string of saliva and straightened her frame.

Before she screamed and tore off his jacket.

She was fucking disgusted by Kurloz Makara tonight. She hated the attitude, the people and the very place that surrounded them all. It hurt her and she wouldn't allow it any longer.

Minutes had passed. The article of clothing lay on frozen debris and jerked from the harsh winds that picked up speed. She cautiously walked over, eyes blinking furiously from the sudden chill, squatted down with closed legs and touched it.

The fabric was still warm and carried the memories she held dear.

Meulin Leijon dragged his jacket up to her chest, beating with a faint maturity while she waited for the next metro bus back to the town of Beforus.

* * *

Gamzee sat in front of the wooden dining table, Meulin's present held up by the tips of his fingers. He slowly rotated it back and forth and watched the light play with the paper. It reflected and created abstract coils on the walls.

When would that deaf bitch realize that she has no fit to their family? When would she understand the nature of their past and the future that held little sanctity for anyone involved? She would have to get it someday or else drastic measures would need to be put into effect.

It wasn't like he wanted to dislike her, but there was something about her consistent, upbeat attitude and forced positivity that grinded at his impromptu personality. She was much too angelic for his taste and would perhaps make him feel bad if he had done any sort of harm to her person.

_Perhaps._

He let the flimsy, thin rectangle slide off of his fingers, watched it plop on its corner then fall flat on the front, spiral ribbons wrinkled. He thought back to the question of Kurloz and his corrupted yet vital voice. It created words and sounds to her influence. She wasn't a threat in the least until he had found that out and it made his blood boil that she was able to give him the confidence he needed. It had been a long set of years but they treated the matter of his muteness casually. They always did. No need to make a rouse when you can kick back and be chill about it.

But that was the problem. He didn't want Kurloz speaking just yet, and now there wasn't much choice in the matter. He sneered, stood up from his chair and walked towards his whimsical bedroom for more righteous machinations. As long as everyone did their share, pulled their weight, let more bodies fall to the ground and let more poison be distributed there would be no worry for the Bard of Rage.

So there he lied on his comfortable bed and waited for his no-longer mime to return home once again, hopefully in solitude. He checked his phone to see if his own angelic cohort had delivered some news on his phone of their latest cahoots but to no avail. He laughed lowly to himself.

The delusional ones never last in the dark carnival.

* * *

Meulin eventually made it back to her side of town in one piece. She was cold, deprived of nourishment and empty from the perverse warmth that left her body. Every fiber in her being told her that she shouldn't be alone and that she should be safe in the arms of someone that mattered.

Horuss had woken up from her abrupt text around eleven fifteen. He had asked where she was and she had said to not worry but to come and see her when she was close to his temporary home. He had not pressed the issue further and agreed that he would meet her no matter what.

The bus had dropped her off in a familiar street but unfamiliar visual. She didn't know what time it was, only knowing that the pitch blackness of the sky started to daunt her. The skeleton jacket donned her frame in desperation. The fluorescent street lamps that hung above were barely lit for her poor sight to distinguish objects from afar. Eventually with haste, she had found the edge of his street. It was bare; trees naked and air unmercifully brisk. But she kept going, one foot in front of the other. She had to for the sake of her health. Her legs convulsed but it wouldn't be for long.

Meulin was about to reach for the handheld in her purse when suddenly the scene was replaced before her; blended into a melting, organic flow of smoke the color of amaranth flowers. She fluttered her eyelids and looked all around for any signs of life. The tufts of clouds made it seem like she was floating on midair but she knew it to be solid ground.

She had turned around, then back again only to be frightened by the _prince_ who stood a good distance away. She pulled the jacket closer to her chilly frame. Surely this was a mirage. He couldn't be here now. His attire looked the same as when she had left, umber cigar adding to the abyss of chromatic smoke and head tilted upward, pretentiously, like she was barely worth his sight.

But she glared and refused be threatened by his attitude. She squinted when three figures materialized around him, moving in a slow and sensuous circle. They were three dancers, each resembling the same one she had saw on the floor with him. Her blood boiled at the very sight.

He smirked by her rouse in bitter emotions and started to make small caresses on his trio of ecdysiasts; first a stroke of the shoulder from the back of his hand, then a grasp of their long strands of hair, a feather light touch to their waists down to their hips and even their backside. Meulin closed her fists and grinded her teeth, her darkness daring to make her give in but she dared not; this mental fight would be won abstinent.

The jewels on his golden crown reflected on the clouds of smoke like the moon to shards of glass. It seemed to glow and flash while he grinned and his eyes danced with those damned shades of fuchsia, amethyst and heliotrope. He reached an arm out to his sex kitten and curled a finger, beckoning her closer so that he might impure her further.

'No!'

She pulled the ends of the jacket sleeves, the only article of clothing on her that allowed separation from her day mare and reality.

'Leave me alone!'

The lights brightened and flittered, rays cutting in her sensitive, wary orbs. She pulled the top of his hood down and shut her eyes, hoping at some point it would be all over.

And it did.

"Oh fiddlesticks, Meulin, you look a mess!"

Meulin felt the strong grip of her best friend's hands on her shoulders, gasped and pushed the hood up in relief. She spoke with a frail voice.

"Horuss!"

She grabbed the sides of his forearms, making sure he was tangible.

"I'm so glad…you waited fur me."

"Well, what happened? Nicker to me!"

All she could do was lean towards his frame which was covered in a long, navy military jacket with sienna colored buttons and a striped, olive scarf. The hunger made her light headed and delirious, a small smile on her face as she looked up to him.

"I think you would be purroud of me."

He cocked his head in confusion.

"Whatever for?"

"…Beclaws I showed a ghost prince who was boss!"

He snorted in amusement and gingerly lifted her frame bridal style with his arms. Meulin gratefully thanked him and put her arms around his neck, admiring the beauty of his scarf and the relaxing scent of novels. He could only examine her for immediate damage. Her hair was askew, eyes heavy and lips covered in small glitters. She was frozen to the touch and body shook violently. Horuss grew horrifically concerned for where she had ventured off with such fashionable attire and a sickly state, jacket being the only clue. But he decided not to leap to conclusions. Her breath smelled of upchuck and cigarettes as she spoke again.

"I'm so famished I could eat a whole cow!"

"Yes, but why? What happened to you? Who is this 'ghost prince' that you referred to?"

"Let's talk about this at my house. I can't really…"

Meulin body almost shut down, head nodded back like a tired infant but quickly sprang up in alertness.

"Oh man."

"Meulin, I really do not want to worry but you are making me sweat with anxiety."

She barely made out what he mouthed to her, eyes getting blurry with tiredness.

"I'm sorry, horsey. I can't say anything now but I purromise…that I will later."

"Do you really promise me?"

"Mmhm."

"Are you hurt or in any pain?"

"Not really."

"Do I need to go 'whoop some solid ass' for you?"

She laughed harshly with a dry throat which made it sound like she squawked with amusement.

"You've been haning…hanging around with Arana and Meenie fur too long."

"I have no choice."

She nodded in understanding and idly played with the smooth strands of hair behind his back.

"Horuss?"

"Yes?"

She smiled at him again.

"Thank you."

"Just please explain all of this to me later."

"I promise."

"Good. Let's get you cleaned up; my room or your home?"

"Mine."

Horuss began his slow walk with his frigid soul mate lying on his shoulder. She felt as though his presence channeled his essence into her and pulsated with a small, warm life line. In a last attempt at consciousness, she pulled out the house key from her purse, displayed it with open palm and finally succumbed to the sleep that allured her all night.

* * *

Kurloz sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over. His head throbbed in his hands and his troubled mind tried to make sense of why he couldn't fully piece together last night. It was only ten o' clock ante meridian, his boss giving him the day off. The sun shined gloriously, rays of orange suffused around his room through the closed blinds and contrasted with his personal chaos.

He was still fucked up, severely hung over and high. The clearest memory he had was the walk out, people still wishing him a joyous and blessed day of birth. His hands tugged painfully at his curls, convinced that if pulled hard enough the rest would come flooding back. It was all in vain. The car, he knew, was safely parked thanks to a close co-worker. Another vehicle tagged along with Kurloz's belonging as well as to bring the driver back with them. So, he had definitely made it home in one piece with dignity hopefully intact. The crown they put on his hair was stashed in a drawer under his work desk, splendor too much to bear.

He remembered distinct smells, visions of clouds and light and then nothing. He felt filthy under his clothes that he slept in. He knew his paint was still neat unless someone had sprayed liquid on him, which was unlikely. He hadn't looked in a mirror yet. He hadn't gone upstairs or walked around or moved from his spot on the bed.

All he was doing was sorting out his mess of a life.

A soft creak indicated the opening door and Kurloz looked up to see Gamzee who leaned causally on the casting with hands behind his back.

"Nice of you to join the motherfuckin' living."

Kurloz didn't bother to sign at him anymore, jade kitten well out of the bag. And speaking of things that he sorely regretted every minute…

"I am fucked up."

…He did not find one single trace of his 'Kit', even throughout the forced bundling of scattered memories.

"I can see that. Can you remember anything?"

"Kind of…not really."

"That's good. That means you had one hell of a time."

No. No it wasn't good. It was straight up frightening. Kurloz groaned to himself while Gamzee chuckled, strolled over to his side and gently set the small present he 'guarded' beside him.

"What is this? I thought you were done 'spoiling my ass'."

"Leijon."

His head shot up and he glared menacingly at him, teeth parted and abdomen flexing with frustration. Kurloz wanted to uppercut the lanky bastard but knew damn well why he couldn't. There was no means of communication between the two after Friday morning and there was no way he could call and say when his object of turmoil would arrive. His phone charged on his bedside table and he almost wanted to throw it at the wall. But instead, he decided to inquire.

"What happened last night?"

"The fuck should I know?"

"No I mean-…When you got this."

He carefully picked up _her_ present and set it on his lap. What had happened to her? Did she not arrive? Maybe that was for the best. If he couldn't command his own actions to return to him, there was no way he would survive with her explanation.

"She came over, I escorted her over to the club and that was about it. I sat for four motherfuckin' hours on that bus with her just to make sure she made it. I was hoping that you would tell me if she saw you…but I guess not."

Kurloz only shut his eyes in irritation. For someone who was 'concerned' he was being awfully fresh with him.

"Hold up, I think somebody's at the door."

Gamzee departed and headed upstairs while Kurloz thought of every worse-case scenario imaginable. Did she stay? What did she see? Who else was with her? Was she disgusted, repulsed even? He wouldn't be surprised by any of it. Every 'promising suitor' he's ever had witnessed the source of his personality and fled without mercy. Every person who tried to win him over couldn't bear where he came from and what he stood for, every single one of them.

Why would a nineteen year old girl be any different? If she was, he would have to break it off with her immediately. It wouldn't make her human to not feel any sort of dislike because even he felt that way sometimes.

He licked his cracked lips, scratched the tiny hairs that started to grow on his jaw and began to open her present. First the small bits of tape in the center, then the edges and finally the center that held the beautifully done, albeit crinkled ribbons. He pulled each crease open like a blooming flower and wanted to die.

It was a shipping wall. It looked homemade due to the irregular patterns of woven yarn around the painted, wooden frame surrounding it. It depicted them both, holding hands among a solid red background with a small pink heart atop their hands. She was crouching, mouth open in joy as he leaned over with his other arm extended outwardly. He picked up the small, creased note with shaky hands and unfolded it, reading the lime gel pen lettering with eyes that threatened to tear up.

'_Dear Kurzorz,_

_Happy birthday! I hope this present reminds you of just how much I appurreciate you furrom the bottom of my heart! You're the best purrson that I could have evfur asked to have marathons with and eat candy with and discuss shipping with! I sincerely hope our furriendship stretches to the far reaches of time, and sails in a peaceful matrimony! _

_Sincerely,_

_Your 'Kit' forever, Mewlin Meowijon._

_P.S: I SHIP IT! (=^ω^=)'_

He could only stare with a blank face, feeling as though he had already contaminated and ruined her priceless artwork with his dirty hands. Carefully did he move it back to the black comforter, along with the heartfelt note, and looked over to the cracks in the floorboard.

Kurloz Makara just didn't know what to do with himself.

"…You don't like it?"

His head shot up to see _her,_ hands timidly interlaced in the front of her body and forlorn expression stained on her face.

Meulin Leijon.

She approached with feather light steps, shoes left upstairs. She wore white stockings with green stripes at the top, an ashy grey skirt with her blue, fuzzy tail and a loose, green and white kitten-themed sweater. It barely looked like the foulness of his celebration had affected her in anyway. She wore her polished candy corn ears, hair neatly combed and put into a ponytail with a blue ribbon tangling with its soft hairs. He wanted to run his fingers through it. Her face was fresh and plain with eyes as bright as the day he had looked into them.

_Meulin Leijon._

How could she not see how much of a pathetic, irresponsible man he was? She sat on his right, cautious of her present and he subtly inhaled her pure scent of catmint and lilacs. He wanted to kiss that curve between her neck and shoulder but thought it below him since he was tarnished with smoke and alcohol. All he wanted was to take her in his arms, lie down and sleep the rest of his life away in permanent hibernation. Flakes of frozen ice could fall down in front of their cave and aurora borealis could be their source for light, moving all around their curved, rust brown roof. He could look down at his lioness while her cheeks shimmered and her lips stayed that same salmon pink forever.

_Meulin fucking Leijon._

"Is anything wrong with it?"

He shook his head and mouthed to her, shocked to hear the rough tone of his voice.

"No. I love it."

There was that smile he wanted to see, the same smile that let him knew she wasn't different. She was still his 'Kit'. The messiahs must have decided to bless him with such a holy and gorgeous piece from their heaven. She looked beyond his sins like they were mere lapses and smiled at his profane sacrilege. He put a hand up to his forehead and rubbed it tenderly, unable to keep up the calm façade.

"Would you like me to get you some medicine?"

"No, Gamzee will get on that."

"Okay."

She placed her soft hand on top of his and he visibly cringed, not able to shake off the feeling of his impurity. It looked like she ignored it, leaving it to his headache and leaned closer with a ginger tone.

"Did you have fun?"

His eyes widened, petrified.

"Where were you?"

She smiled again and he immediately caught the faint distinction of melancholy.

"Do you remember anything?"

"…No."

His jaw tightened, already tired of the reckless answer. She felt her hand leave his forehead with his own held tenderly in her grasp, leaned even closer and pressed her lips against it. Kurloz closed his tired eyelids let himself indulge in the warmth that he felt.

"It's okay."

They sat like this for what seemed like an eternity, she unaware of his anguish, concerns and self-conscious thoughts. They were two lonely people who had met by chance, given a taste of their raw natures and wanting more; she a lonely, needy road with a plethora of buried emotions and he a solitary pace of a man with little purpose, lechery and illegality.

"Kurloz?"

His heart expanded from the sound that poured from her lips, sweet as honey and dripped onto his tainted name.

"Yes, Kit?"

He saw her purse her lips at his name for her, heart clutching in his chest as a gentle hand was placed on his cheek.

"_I forgive you." _


	5. Chapter 5

Author Notes:

O HAY HOW U DOIN? ITS CHAPTER FIVE; _SPRINGTIME BONANZA __**EXPLOSION! **__**12/12/2012 AIN'T THAT A BITCH**_ EDITION. Here are my notes for you holiday reader:

So, okay, I know you're just like "Bro, where the absolute_ fuck_ was this chapter at weeks and weeks ago?" And I'm here to tell you that got-DAMN I can't have some homemade macaroni and cheese with potatoes first!? LOL just kidding! But on a more serious note I had to make some moves and I didn't have internet for a while so that's basically why there was the longer than usual wait. I like all my resources in front of me when doing any sort of draft on a chapter so to not have it was teeth-grinding. Not to mention the editing and looking over and over and whatnot. Whew! It took a minute. So I'm here to say that I'm sowwy and I hope the double-length as well as the content more than makes make up for it. u^u Yes darlings it's the chapter some if not most have been waiting for, the one that could potentially get the whole story eradicated from the site. (Of course, I have a backup plan on standby because I'm so fabulous) So let me get right to it! This chapter covers one hell of a lot. It's split in the center into two parts because that's literally how long it is and you can take a break if need be. All the alpha characters are involved at some point or another and there is more of Kurloz's perspective which is essential for all the challenges, breakthroughs and introspection I put in the narration of his and Meulin's 'ship'. On a related note, I know most of you are anxious about what Gamzee is going to do and what plans he has and I am here to reassure you that it is indeed coming! Watch for the hints here and there and you might be more in the know than others! But what I would actually like for you to do is relax and slowly ease your way through this chapter because trust me you're going to need it lol. I want to give an exceptionally large thank you to my patient and vigorous readers who gave this silly story a chance! I reached 7k which I mean how that happened I'll never know! How do y'all do it?! I put in twice the research, human element and love just to let you know you're appreciated and so that you can have a happy holiday or upcoming holiday break. There _will_ be more chapters coming. I won't say how many because I can't promise a number but I do need to tell you that there won't be an update until 2013 because, well, you know, imma be partying like a mf so yeah sorry boo-boo's YA AIN'T MA LIFE. But it has been a pleasure to write for you and I hope I've been able to upkeep the quality. If not, well at least I can laugh knowing you're about to read awkward moments because let's face it I'm a damn troll even if there is method to the madness. Well, that's about it! Fly free my festive butterflies! *U*

**TL;DR **_**WOAH NIGGA**_** YOU EXPECT ME** TO READ ALL DAT AUTHOR SHIT by you, no, absolutely not. 'TIS THE HOLIDAY SEASON TO BE EXTREMELY, ABSOLUTELY SUPER DAMN LATE. WHAT IS CONSISTENT TENSE AND CONTINUITY? I DON'T CARE ANYMORE. _COME AT ME BRO._ _COME . AT . ME . __**BRO. **_AWW, YOU WANT SENSITIVE KURLOZ AND SWEETIE PIE MEULIN? _GET OUT MY FACE_ WITH DAT BULLSHIT. YOU BETTA ASK SANTA CLAUSE! P.S BE SAFE OUT IN DEM STREETS. 38D HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND NEW YEAR!

Ok, have fun! And thank you for indulging me 38*

_Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie. I am not affiliated nor do I make any profit from this story._

* * *

Chapter 5: Something In the Way You Are

Part I

* * *

_Kurloz hesitated to form his response, not clearly knowing the context of why he was given clemency. His tone was hushed. _

"…_Why?"_

_He observed the peculiar understanding in her features, savored the brush of her thumb on his cheek and the faint heartbeat that pounded between their hands. _

"_Because I thought I knew what I was getting myself into and I didn't."_

_The strong hold on his heart was lifted and replaced with a gaping, abysmal feeling. _

"_What do you mean?" _

_Meulin looked downward at various, crumpled wrinkles on the edge of his amaranthine shirt. There was a solemnity that overwhelmed her compassionate eyes. Kurloz bit the corner of his bottom lip, feeling the affection on his cheek come to a halt. Along with the dull headache, he couldn't stand his mind being elusive about what he did or might not have done. His brow creased at a fuzzy memory of gloss on a saturated, red door and collective laughter…_

…_It would have become clear if he hadn't focused on her voice. _

"_I don't think I can explain it right now. I'm sorry."_

_Meulin looked up again and his teeth chewed on the soft flesh until it let go. Her hand on his cheek lowered itself to the center of her ash-colored skirt. _

"_I know it seems weird because I'm missing school, which is something I never do, but, I mean, all I really wanted was see if you were alright." _

"_Well I'm not."_

_She became remorseful. _

"_Why?" _

"_Because you won't motherfuc-" _

_He hastily shut his eyes and compressed his lips, not wanting to take out his displeasure on her. After a sigh out of nose he focused on the hand lying on her lap and tried again. _

"_Because you won't tell me what you wanna say." _

"_I do, just not right now."_

"_Then what was the point of coming here, Meulin?" _

"_Because, I-" _

_Meulin huffed and glanced down to the abstract swirls on the floorboard. She fidgeted with the end of her skirt, him now conscious of the nervous tic. _

"_Kurloz,"_

_She glanced back at his silk shirt. _

"_This isn't easy for me. I came here because I care about you. What I want to say can't wait for too long." _

_Her shoulders hunched and her eyes moved back to his lips. _

"_But I will wait until the end of this week."_

"_Why can't you just tell me now?"_

"_Because I don't want to!" _

_His lips became stiff and he drummed his toes on the floor, unable to suppress his will to become apathetic. _

"_Fine."_

"_I know it's late but happy birthday."_

"_Thanks."_

_The air became tense and Meulin loosened the grip on his hand out of apprehension. Kurloz noticed her back straighten as she licked her lips, eyes darting across the bed sheets and badly wanted to press his own lips against hers in apology because even he didn't understand why he was acting in this way. _

_After a while, she spoke again._

"_Um, I'll just…text you later, I guess." _

_Her hand brushed against his as she got up from the bed, straightened her skirt and headed toward the bedroom doorway. The streaks of pale, golden light moved across her body and he bore witness to her otherworldly essence, specks of dust floating violently around the changing air. She stopped when she reached the casing and turned her head back which gave him a chance at redemption for his behavior. _

_He didn't take it. _

_There were many perks to becoming empathetic in his illegal work and perceiving the intent from his customers was one of them. Whether they were trustworthy, shady or enigmatic, it wasn't that hard to decipher. To use that trait on Meulin was more than effortless. Even if she didn't speak or reserve herself like she did then, he could always conclude the overall feelings. _

_But in that moment, he wished he hadn't. There was an unsettling mixture of confusion, distress, embarrassment, longing and even infatuation. He wasn't sure which one she leaned towards most and it disheartened him. _

_In the end, she left without another word and it left Kurloz to meditate his next moves. Perhaps a long shower, some medicine and maybe a thought about where to put his precious gift which he was now undeserving of would distract his troubled, evasive mind. He stood, left the shipping wall where it lay, dragged his feet across the wooden floor, the rectangular cream carpet and finally the white rug in front of his dresser. His hands opened the first drawer that was filled with nothing but stacks of papers, bills and useless trinkets. Some of the white voodoo dolls that sat atop it careened by the unpleasantly rough movement. _

_He grabbed a lighter, a cigarette from an open pack, put it in his mouth and lit it, settling for penance. _

* * *

"HEY, MEULIN!"

"…"

Cronus became crestfallen at the lack of response, momentarily forgetting her handicap.

It was three twenty-six, after school on a Friday. Meulin was slumped on a wooden bench behind the school parking spaces and waited for her high class companions to arrive for their shopping spree. It was more for Meenah because there were gold colored sneakers on hold she wanted to personally acquire at some lesser known retail store. She was bundled up in one of Horuss's olive, military wool coats with black buttons, one of her cat sweaters she got for Christmas, blue jeans and cat-themed rain boots. As usual, her ears and tail were present. While the weather didn't harbor any physical snow, it was frosty around cars, edges of curbs and tree branches. One could never be too sure, especially since it became nippy in the evenings.

An odd trio that approached out of school grounds and on the sidewalk stayed unnoticed, she too busy trying to keep warm and musing daunting matters.

"Yo, is that the deaf girl?...What a doll."

Cronus smacked his tongue on the roof of his mouth and smirked at Rufioh. He plucked an unlit cigarette out of his mouth and tucked it behind an ear.

"Everyone is a doll to you. Everyone…except for me!"

He put on a sad face and faked a few sobs while Mituna grimaced at the desperate exhibit.

"Ruhf ALREEDY HASs a Man andsO DOES MEUMUE."

"Yeah, we know chief."

"Oh damn, son…who is it?"

"It's his majesty, spooky too scary-san."

"Really?...That's some crazy shit!...I would have expected someone older."

"Yeah, I thought so too! He probably realizes nobody with status or class would go for 'em so now he prefers jailbait? Whatever lets him fuck at night, I guess."

"ShE'S NINNTEN, GOGDaM!"

"And he's a Mack Daddy. If I had known beforehand I would have wooed him with some of my cool mix tapes. Why are you even trying to argue this, Mituna? You still don't even know where your helmet is!"

Mituna lowered his head which was covered with wisps of hair. At lunch time, Cronus had dared him to take off his safety helmet for more than an hour. Before he knew it, he had no idea where he left it or whom could have taken it. In class, he drew many sad profiles on his Spanish verb conjugation worksheets.

"I always thought dude had some pretty dope game…At least when he tried to mack on me."

"What!? Tell me when _that _happened!"

"A damn long time ago…It was at some sick party across the bridge…he didn't realize I was with someone then…Oh man, I remember him handing me a drink and next thing I knew his hand was on my ass-"

"YoU TOW MAKE Me FUCKKNG SICK, FUCK."

Cronus rolled his eyes and walked faster towards Meulin. It wasn't so much their homosexual tendencies and preferences that grinded Mituna's gears, rather the slandering of his best friend and his life choices all in one conversation. To this day, he still doesn't know why he continues to hang out with them, maybe at some chance they'll actually grow to be his genuine school friends. That thought alone made him want to draw all the sad faces on his future homework.

Rufioh was just visiting from a neighboring community college and was slowly starting to regret his decision. Mituna did nothing but cramp his cool and Cronus wouldn't stop _hitting_ _on him._ He could never figure out exactly what preference he was and just concluded it was anything that moved and gave him the time of day.

He was relieved when Cronus's next victim wasn't himself. Cronus plopped himself beside Meulin who had just noticed him approach and gave her a cheeky smile.

"Hey there, beautiful!"

"Hi, Cronus! Are you with them?"

She pointed towards the pair behind him.

"Those slimy assholes? Not really."

"WHaT THE ACKTUAL FUCK!"

Cronus 'slicked' his gel-hardened hair back and sneered.

"Meu, I can call you Meu, right? Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, I don't see why not!"

"Have you heard from Makara? The handsome one, not the weird runt."

She inwardly moped, not wanting to dwell upon_ his_ existence or even the personal commitment she had to perform the next day. The plan was to lighten her mood by accepting the offer Meenah and Aranea planned for the evening but it seemed like everywhere she looked for distractions, the many unpleasant outcomes that could transpire between them couldn't be shaken off in her mind.

"No, I'm sorry. He's busy with work."

"Ah, that's alright. I know you're associated with 'em so I thought I should ask."

"Ok, CaN WE goNOW? I NEED TO FINSD MY HaMLET!"

Cronus snickered, not bothering to look back.

"Aww, Captor misses his weed man! See, Nitram, we're not the only ones who favors the dick."

"FUCK OYU FUUCK YOU QODDAMN!"

Meulin blinked, unsure of where that came from or if she even wanted to know. Weren't Mituna and _him_ just friends? Rufioh put his hands up in trepidation.

"Woah!...Chill out, Cronus…What If Latula hears all that?"

"Eh, she ain't one to harm unless there's physical damage to his lanky bod."

Mituna rolled his eyes, which no one could see due to his heavy collection of bangs.

"Oh well, I'll just ask you! You're a woman of common sense and stature, right?"

"Um…"

"Ok, see, what had happened was, I ordered cable with my roommate, Kankri. We share the bills equally and what not. So, three months have passed since then and I recently saw an increase in our amount due so I wondered what the hell happened! I got all the bills together and turns out they charged us higher than usual for a whole week! Crazy, right? I, of course, called with the intent of yelling at someone's incompetence but turns out the whole time we had this free trial of Cinemax and Starz! Because I, and I quote, 'didn't call ahead to remove the subscription', they automatically made it official after the free trial was done and started to charge me! God, Kankri wouldn't stop _lecturing_ me about it. 'NINETY-FIVE DOLLARS AND SEVENTY FOUR CENTS?!' Whiny little…!"

Mituna cackled so hard it looked like he was a kid ride that been given too many quarters and was having seizures. Rufioh couldn't lie and say he didn't doze off in-between the long and rather boring block of speech.

"Shut it, you bumbling ret-…thick-headed fella. Anyway, Meu, darling-"

He put a gloved hand on her shoulder and started to massage it. Meulin instantly became uncomfortable.

"-Don't you think I'm right in the fact that they should call their customers ahead and ask if _they_ want the subscription, not the other way around?"

Meulin didn't respond right away and it was so silent, if a cricket could chirp in the bitter cold it would have.

"I don't really have any experience with all that, but, um, your explanation makes sense."

"Of course it does. I think It's perfectly reasonable and when I get down to their building I'm going to give one of their workers a piece of my humble mind. Thanks, lovely."

All Meulin wanted was the touching to cease. Now she knew how Mituna felt when she saw Cronus getting all hands-on with him on more than multiple occasions.

"Damn, Cronus…You don't know you have you hit them up ahead of time?"

Cronus whipped his head towards Rufioh.

"Well I do now! But that isn't the point! The point is, I believe it's the cable company's job to phone _me_ and ask if _I_ want to keep their stupid, automatic subscriptions!"

Mituna cackled even harder. Cronus looked back to Meulin who was starting to show small signs of her uncomfortable demeanor by putting her hands in Horuss's huge pockets and smiling lesser than normal.

"I wanted to ask Mr. Mack Daddy since I know he's been paying bills forever. I'm sure he would agree with me."

"NO HE WouLDN'T, He's SMUt. SMURT. SMARK. FFFUCK!"

"RUDE."

"I'm sorry."

Meulin couldn't help but become wary of the fact that _he_ was also well-versed in the ways of adulthood while she was just scraping by with her mother's help. The age difference never exactly bothered her much but the small things were making her realize how far away she was from his level.

Being mature is hard and nobody understands.

Meanwhile, a fuchsia ford focus pulled up directly behind their bench and an aquatic-themed senior popped her head out of the driver's window.

"But you'll get in touch with him eventually, won't you? Aren't you two an item or something?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that."

_HONK._

"Oh, really? Does that mean you're fair game?"

"I'm what?"

"Fair game? Could a sensitive and intriguing greaser with a sense of humor and style sweep you off of your feet?"

"Oh! Uh, not right now."

"Well, when could I-I mean, when could he do that?"

_HONK-HONK_

"It depends on how things go tomorrow."

"Oh? Having boyfriend troubles? I'm way experienced in that, almost…too experienced. If you want, I could come over sometime and give you tips on how to handle it."

"It's nothing like that…well…I don't know."

"Hey, trust me. I'm the man you want to go for all that, you know?"

"I just…"

"C'mon, pretty thing. Give me a cha-"

_HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK. _

"HELL_-O!_ WHAT THE SHUCK, YOU GUYS? I'M ALMOST TO THE POINT OF _LOATHIN _YOU!"

Meenah seethed in her seat with shoulders hunched while Latula giggle-snorted from the back seat and Aranea just kept reading her assigned writing novel in the passenger side.

"Clammit…! NITRAM!"

Rufioh looked over and waved to her.

"Hey, doll!"

"'HEY' NOFIN! TAP LEIJON ON HER SHOULDER, SHE'S RUININ MY JOKE!"

"…Joke?"

Rufioh shrugged and did as he was instructed, pointing to the vehicle afterward. Cronus removed his hand from Meulin's shoulder while she looked over to Meenah practically foaming at the mouth.

"GET IN LOSER, WE'RE GOIN SHOPPIN."

Of course, Meulin couldn't see what she said from so far away but decided it had something to do with getting inside of the car. Latula had already stepped outside, most likely gotten a ride from the pair to be with Mituna and his gang. Meulin said her small goodbyes to the trio, walked around the bench, past the shrubbery and on to the parking lot to greet Latula before replacing her spot in the back seat.

Meenah, at last, relaxed herself in the driver's seat and rolled up her window before looking back at the shivering cat girl.

"Finally! I never thought you would leave the three stooges! Mama has a pair of sneaks on hold and they are callin me to come home!"

She proceeded to reverse and drive off in the general direction of a Beforus strip mall. Latula, however, greeted the trio with a grin and hands behind herself.

"Well, bros, I leave mt in your care while I skated away for rad higher learning and I find _this_ with paycheck!"

She adjusted her shiny, red shades with one hand and revealed Mituna's helmet behind her back with the other. Cronus blanched.

"They informed me that someone actually challenged him to take it off! Now which lucky poser do I have the honor of face planting with my choice board?"

Cronus hid behind Rufioh in terror while Rufioh put his hands up in surrender. Mituna laughed so hard he got on his knees and complained about his sides.

* * *

Meulin couldn't believe her very eyes. They walked all around a bare bones plaza to stroll inside a department store that sold some extreme but pretty lavish outfits. Overhead, multicolored lights that looked like they belonged in a theater brightened the powder maroon walls and dark blue tiles. The clothes held variety but maintained the same theme: Club wear. From short, form-fitting dresses, ripped jeans, shirts with witty sayings to booty shorts, lingerie racks with multiple sales, stocking and heels, it almost seemed like Meenah's dream store.

Said guppy-lips walked in front of the pair and lifted her arms in joy.

"Welcome, ladies, to _Sapphire Palace_!"

Meulin witnessed the antsy fashionista make a one eighty and bee line towards the shoes, drooling at six inch stacked heels, mustard-colored winter boots and of course, sneakers. Aranea tapped Meulin on her shoulder.

"Don't mind her! Once she's inside, it's like it's her own little grotto. Let's go say hi to the only employee that works here on this shift, shall we?"

They both ambled towards the cashier desk at the very back of the store. What emerged from the stock room behind it was not something anyone could prepare for. An undeniably _gorgeous _female donned a black and green dress and sauntered around the desk so Meulin could ogle the pointed, green heels she wore. Said female leaned against the desk behind her and folded her arms, revealing the large, henna-inspired tattoos that surrounded them.

"Porrim!"

Meulin blurted it out, not wanting to lose the sudden memory of her name. It would have left as fast as it came.

"Yes, that's me."

Porrim smiled gracefully, giving life to her almost glowing, dolled up face. The sultry green and black make-up as well as her carefully placed piercings made Meulin's heart pitter-patter with intimidation. In all honesty, no introduction was required as Porrim Maryam was known by plenty sources inside and outside of school. She used to work in the fashion industry, got her bachelor's degree in marketing and settled down by opening up her own boutique. Her incessant appetite for sexual fulfillment caused her to be negligent that dream, it crashing and burning with little regret. With the current recession going on, she was laid off of her old job as an accountant and was hired in Sapphire Palace ran by someone else. Now, she's only known as 'the hungry sex-cougar who would leave her consent on.'

"I see my best customer is already mine for the taking."

Aranea laughed.

"She's just distracting herself from not pestering you about those shiny shoes you have for her."

"Well, maybe if I'm lucky, she'll see something else she wants. Business is booming rapidly as usual but you can clearly see that."

This was obviously a joke as nobody was in the store but them.

"Aww, I'm sorry Porrim!"

"Don't feel sorry for me. Beautiful women are the only motivation I need to get up and come here every day. Speaking of beauties, who is this here? Haven't I seen her before?"

Meulin's cheeks flushed and she was too shy to interject in the conversation but Aranea carried it out.

"Oh! This is Meulin! She was at the end of the summer party way back when, remember?"

"I believe I can't recall. I've been to so many parties now-a-days, I should sign up for the Guinness world record."

"I'm sure you'd break all their stats. So, how goes the endless quest for party gossip?"

"Thriving marvelously to my own surprise. Can you believe that all those bodies we've been hearing about in the news is due to some sort of new, untraceable hallucinogenic?"

"Is that so? It can't be from anyone we know."

"I hope not."

Meulin had somewhat spaced out of the conversation, looking around the store and wondering if there was anything she'd might like to try on. The wisest advice she got about shopping was that she could look everywhere in her favorite store and find nothing to buy while looking for five seconds in an unfamiliar store only to find exactly what she wanted.

"Anyway, how goes the monogamous quest with your darling guppy?"

"Hey, look, are those spider lace stockings on sale? I'd better go check it out! You said you needed help in sales, didn't you? Here I go, away to the sale, avoiding the subject around _said guppy!" _

Aranea murmured the last part, cursing Porrim and her ability to find information when it wasn't even readily available to her. Meulin didn't even realize she was alone with her until it was too late. She looked up at her smile again and it racked her nerves.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Miss Leijon."

"Yes, you also!"

"You know, I've heard nothing but positive things about you from your friends which is a rare treat for me considering they talk nothing but nonsense about everyone else. Well, I take that back. It's mostly Peixes who does that."

Meulin giggled and it alleviated some of her tension.

"I also heard that you're quite curvaceous. Is this true?"

She hunched her shoulders in modesty.

"Oh, I don't know. I think they're just trying to be nice."

"Nice or not, I'm curious. I sense a sultry but innocent outfit in your future..."

Porrim started to walk and Meulin automatically followed like a duckling around various racks of clothing until she slowed beside the maroon wall on her right which held many dresses on display. She tapped a manicured nail on her lip ring, casually walking beside each outfit until she daintily reached over and picked up a hanger. It held a cream colored, form fitting sweater dress and her hand put it in front of Meulin's body.

"Hmm. I think this would look good with some red leggings."

"And maybe some dam heels for once!?"

Meenah eventually snapped out of her shoe stupor and joined the duo with two pairs of sneakers already in each hand. She stood beside Porrim and tilted her head.

"Dag. Even you can figure out how predictable her tastes are."

"I'm simply good at my job."

"Whale go ahead and stunt on the haters, then. Listen, lemme go in the back and sea if these are in my size."

Porrim shook her head in amusement.

"You already know that's not possible due to the security cameras. And I can tell you no one the right one and…maybe on the left. I'll double-check after I've finished helping out my first customer. Why don't you go see Aranea, huh? I hear she's picking out lace stockings and perhaps panties to match?"

Meulin was sure Aranea didn't mention anything about underwear but Meenah was already on the prowl, interest piqued to an almost villainous level. She looked back up at Porrim.

"Meulin, I sense that you have some sort of decision you must implement, possibly as early as tomorrow?"

She froze. A lump caught in her throat and hindered her ability to respond in a timely manner.

"How did you…?"

"It's like Meenah said, you're somewhat predictable."

"But, what does that mean?"

"Well, it means I can read you easier than others. I'm not only good with traveling gossip but I'm great with pseudo-fortune telling. It's been a gift of mine for a while. Or, it might just be the wise intuition that comes with age. I can't tell which anymore."

Porrim handed her the dress and she reluctantly took it, uneasy about the accurate prediction. The softness of the breathable fabric she felt with her forefinger and thumb comforted her.

"Am I really that obvious?"

"Trust me, nobody is. I just guess and happen to be right more often than not. Don't take it too seriously."

"…Okay."

Meulin was conflicted. It wasn't so much her divination than it was the warmth and uncertainty she was sensing from her at the same time. Porrim only shrugged.

"Why don't you try it on?"

"This? I don't know. I don't think I'll have anywhere to go in it."

Porrim directed her to a nearby body mirror on one of the store's concrete beams. She lifted the dress in front of Meulin's coat again.

"Honey, sometimes you just need an outfit that doesn't require you to go anywhere fancy or elegant. Sometimes you need it to feel good about yourself. I've had my share of break-ups and make-ups in less than elegant manners simply because I didn't feel like what I was wearing reflected a confident attitude. My mother always used to tell me: Even if your life is an absolute mess, at least you look damn good."

Meulin grinned at the cheery advice.

"Doesn't that feel weird, though?"

"At first, yes, but once you're actually in the outfit it helps you clear your mind and gives you a better sense of what you want to do and the path you want to choose in the moment."

She nodded, feeling her drowsy mood lift and be replaced with an upbeat spirit.

"Okay! Where's the changing room?"

"They're by the stockings, where Aranea is. Tell you what, you get changed and I'll find some heels for you to wear later on, okay? What size do you wear? "

"Eight in a half. Narrow."

"How petite. Well, I'll be just a moment..."

Porrim took out a small handheld from a hidden pocket inside the slit of her dress. On the back was a sticker of the female symbol and a nude woman's back with white wings. She began to hastily type before flipping it shut and making her way towards the shoes. Meulin shrugged and made her way towards one of the blue fitting room doors, choosing the one closest to the back wall and undressing from her heavy attire. Halfway through, she saw a pair of hands dangle four inch, black suede heels which she excitedly acquired from them.

Moments later, did all three fashionistas make a group around the door, chatting amongst themselves. Meenah became more inquisitive.

"So, Maryam, what did you guys decide on?"

"It's a surprise."

"Ooh. Maybe I can finally sea that shape under those frumpy shirts and skirts."

"You just might."

When Meulin did step outside and come into view, the only sound in the store was that of the faint, random singing from the speakers on each of the adjoining wall corners.

The dress hugged her soft curves, accentuating her wide, birthing hips and modest breast size. It was short sleeved and cut off between her thighs so it showed enough skin to entice but still allowed room for some imagination. Her legs had more of a muscular definition thanks to the elevation of the shoes and Meenah was the first one to clasp her mouth shut and utter a proper comment.

"…Are y'all seain what I think we are seain?"

Aranea tilted her head, fascinated by the reveal of Meulin's appeal.

"I believe so."

"I mean, I knew the gill had body but I didn't know she had _body." _

Porrim excitedly made a twirling movement with her finger and Meulin slowly turned with arms up and by her side. She was still surprised by the ever present shock on each of their faces. Now it was Porrim's turn.

"Oh. She's bad_." _

"…Bad?"

Meulin cocked her head at Porrim's unfamiliar lingo. Aranea moved her hand down and up for attention.

"That's a good thing. It just means you can walk circles around any girl that might come in here."

Now she was even more confused.

"Okay, but did you sea the back though? I mean, I finally understand why Captain Booty Fiend has grabbed her in his net and kept her all to his shelf. It's like he found a treasure chest full of gold."

Porrim crinkled her nose.

"…Do you mean Kurloz?"

"What_ebber _you wanna call him; Spooky J, French Scare-tana , 'Do it wit' no hands.' I usually stick with Collipark Creepy Sparxxx. That one reely gets him goin."

Porrim could only stare in disturbed bewilderment.

"Hey, you let that fool sneak you in clubs and tail me you don't get a different perspective, alright? So, don't gimme that look! Oh shit, speakin of perspective, I need to go handle some bizz right quick."

Meulin pouted while Aranea stared at Meenah, equally as bewildered but for different reasons.

"I wasn't aware you had previous engagements."

"Oh, it's only gonna be for a sec. I gotta sea Horuss aboat somefin and then I'mma nab some groceries."

Meulin was now reminded that Horuss didn't answer her texts all this week. She shuffled her feet in the comfortable heels and wondered what was going on.

"Well, why don't we come with you?"

"'Cause I have to handle somefin in-between that. Gurl, you ain't tryna be there, it's gonna be borin! Sorry gills, but I gotta make like a pixelated banana peel and swerve into Mario's go-kart."

"…What?"

"Exactly."

Meenah shoved the shoes in Porrim's hands and proceeded to jog toward the entrance of the store, leaving no room for questions.

"I'm sorry, Porrim. I guess I'll be getting the sneakers on her behalf."

"I appreciate it."

The cougar decided to direct all her attention to the potential buyer still in front of her.

"How do you feel, Meulin?"

"I feel good! It's nice and the shoes are really comfy."

"Do you know about the half-off spring sale going on? All winter items must go!"

Aranea smiled at the older woman, knowing she was just being nice as usual. Meulin thought about how much she had inside her cat purse in Horuss's coat pocket.

"What about the shoes?"

"Eh, I think I can make something work. They're too darling on you."

Meulin smiled at them both, deeming the curt shopping spree a tiny success after all.

"I think I'll get it! I already have red stockings at home, so why not?"

"That's the shopping spirit!"

* * *

Kurloz parallel parked his car at home around four forty-seven in the evening. The worst thing about driving in the evenings was trying to desperately avoid the five o' clock traffic. Unless everyone wanted to feel the wrath of his storming road rage, which he tried to mitigate around other passengers, he made an effort to get most of his work done and finish the rest at his leisure. That is, until he knew there was a meeting he couldn't avoid. Don't get him wrong, he's a pretty generous person on the road but when it comes to the stupidity of the working class leaving at the same damn time, there had to be some leeway to flip someone off that dared threaten his life on earth.

On top of it all, it looked like he was developing some sort of delayed sickness, if that made any sense. He knew he shouldn't have partied next to sick motherfuckers. His throat swelled up on Wednesday but didn't think much of it. Thursday caused for small coughs and small sniffles and today he just felt drowsy.

Well that's just what he gets.

Kurloz relaxed in his seat while the engine ran. His index and thumb massaged the bridge of his nose, all the while he sniffled and his other arm wrapped itself around his waist and his hand balled up red dress shirt in its sluggish grasp. In the past week, his conduct concerning his lively celebration had come back to him in small pieces. He tried to puzzle them back together in the mornings when his boss would talk about revenue and when he would most likely text _her, _but didn't. He tried to clarify it all in the midst of paper work with multiple computer programs open on his laptop. Some of his co-workers deemed the selection of his 'light' lunches out of the ordinary. At the end of the day, when he would produce his prohibited sales inside the safe brick walls of his home and count up his profit, he would lose track and become uninterested specifically because of his unrecalled memories. The process repeated itself, him finding new segments lurking around his sober mind.

He remembered his favored colors that engulfed his vision and how it catered to his every sense. The collective laughter from his friends was prominent in his ears, as was the bass and blaring voices of others. There was the feel of royalty on his skin, the harsh taste of drugs and the mix of perfumes and deodorants. His mind's eyes revived the sheen on the red door, the plushness of leather on a chair beside a king sized bed, the ill-lighted and indistinct ambiance teeming with red and black…

…And then what?

It was decided that he didn't want to fill that blank voluntarily and when his mind was ready to reveal that truth, he would face it. His hand almost reached for the keys when he looked over to his right and balled his hands into fists at a tap on his passenger mirror. He was ready to knock a ninja out who dared disturb him but did a double-take at Meenah waving energetically and pointing to the door handle while a stranger with goggles accompanied her side. Kurloz unlocked his doors and both moved swiftly, she on the passenger and he on the back seat. They closed it and fixed their gazes on him while he remained at a loss and waited for an explanation.

Meenah only grinned diabolically.

"I know whose _pussy_ you _popped_ last week."

Kurloz's eyes bulged. _Oh fuck._ _OH FUCK. _

"Aww! You don't even remember! That's so typical."

His brows furrowed deeply and his mouth turned. Of fucking _course_ he had to go and get some on his day of birth. He didn't want to assume in that ridiculously blatant memory. For all he knew his friends could have left him there to pass out but oh no! He had to be intoxicated in every way and who knows what Meulin-

_**OH FUCK!**_

"Oh! Silly me and my manners! You must be wonderin who's mean muggin you from the back!"

He coughed himself into a small fit and glanced begrudgingly up at his rear view mirror. What stared back was the dark eyes of someone who clearly wanted to see all of his precious blood splattered across the sidewalk.

"This is Zahhak! Say hi, Zahhak!"

Horuss remained silent.

"This is Lejayjay's, how do I put it, _best frond for life._ So, yeah, if you ever thought you had a chance with her in anyfin betta than watchu already got then this is the man you would have needed to impress! Too bad you didn't do that great of a job, chum, 'cause what he heard from her wasn't all that impressive."

Kurloz glanced back at Meenah's grin, too forced and cheery to imply anything positive. He went back to 'Zahhak' who didn't move a muscle. He just kept his rather beefy arms folded and eyes attentive. Maybe if Kurloz made a bee line for home-no, his car wouldn't be safe. Fuck. He couldn't take the malevolent glare so he looked back at-Jesus fucking Christ her nose scrunched. Now Meenah looked downright demoniac with teeth almost sharp enough to imitate fangs.

"Yeah, you in deep-ass waters."

He cringed. Where the fuck was his tissue box!? Oh, that's right, in the back motherfucking seat. Gold stars all around, he tried.

"OOH! Lessea whatchu got on your Ipod!"

Meenah was referring to it being hooked up to his car with a black cable. She happily grabbed it from its center tray, turned it on and flipped through the selection while the atmosphere became humid with tension. Too bad he was too petrified to turn on the cool air or even dared to reach deliverance for his runny nose.

"Oh wow! I didn't know Spooky Scary Flame listened to _ignorance_!"

She turned up the volume, selected 'Round of Applause' and started to move her shoulders and back to the beat, sticking her tongue out and curling the tip on the front her teeth.

So this is what they were here for: embarrassment and interrogation.

"I know you wonderin how I even stumbled upon this fabulous gossip! Whale, it just so happens that miss raven-haired donk-a-donk was gonna spill how much you allegedly 'tore dat pussy up' even in the fucked up condition you were in! Which, I gotta say, is pretty remarkable. But I made a deal with her that I would make her kitty _sing_ if I had my way and boom, I saved yo ass once again! I mean, you know how small this town is. It could have trickled all the way down to the very person you didn't want knowin but turns out you forgot! Irony is a pretty beach, ain't she?"

Kurloz scowled with eyes forward, hands seized on his steering wheel with knuckles turning a lighter shade than his skin. He pierced daggers at the fuchsia ford focus he now realized was parked in front of him. The sun was too bright for this shit, the people passing him by was too happy for this shit and he was simply too _old _for this shit. If this was the one and only time he would regret his pimp tendencies, then so be it. But how this asshole thought rubbing it in his face was a good idea as well as 'saving' him with her dumb, open relationship with was beyond him.

He bets Aranea doesn't even know she did that behind her back.

"And I'm knot opposed to birthday pussy! I know how amazin that shit is so I bereef that's your cod given right as a single male. But you ain't exactly single and I don't even think you _asked_ _her_ if she was okay with that, did you?"

Kurloz shut his eyes and tried to delay his wheezes, condemning a lecture by the water bitch of all people. And of course she had to do her own rendition of the _goddamn_ lyrics:

"Kurloz, can you be my baby daddy? Pimpin like he's dolemite, ho's jump in his caddy! Smoke like he got cataracts, in da strip club throwin up dem stacks, he got racks on top of racks! Bust that pussy, make dat ass clap _clap_ _**clap**_-!"

His head lowered, body rocked to and fro like an elderly person in their rocking chair. He glared intense lasers at the pedals with his teeth grinding in his mouth. Sure, he could have remembered. He could have even mulled it over, thought it wrong and forgave himself, never to mention it. He wouldn't have even told _her_ and it wouldn't have mattered because they weren't in a relationship. That would be his excuse. He would live with himself. He would sleep at night. He wouldn't regret it…

…But no. They would _make_ him regret it._ He had to confess now, or someone else would. _

"Aww, okay. I won't fuck with you no more."

Kurloz lifted his head back onto the rest and exhaled, sniffing sickness back into his body.

"…But that don't mean you knot gonna drive to the liquor store, pick me up some Moscato and I mean the top shelf shit, knot the knock off, Ninja, even though that's kinda good too. Anemoneway, then you gonna go to the corner mart and get me some Dutch Masters in the green pack which I mean I could get myshelf but, I mean, come on, It's way more fun if you do it! You know why? 'Cause you gonna give me a free dub, you gonna roll that shit up and you bouta watch me _blow in yo face_!"

Kurloz's head slowly turned towards the spawn of ocean Satan, eyes baleful and lip stiff.

"Oh, you mad now? Honey, you ain't mad yet. If you don't get your fishes in a row me and Zahhak are goin to go ham on you so hard, print out 'Pop That' lyrics and make Leijon read every single little gangsta word to make shore you never even have a_ sliver_ of a fuckin chance with her _ever_ again, you understand me?"

Mad? Oh no. He was livid. He was filled with so much animosity, obsessed with the thought of pure rage and wanted to expel it on nobody but himself.

Kurloz turned the ignition again, one handing the wheel and proceeded to figure out the closest location to do both requests in one swoop and hopefully one main street. His head tilted upward, glowering in vehemence. It didn't last long and soon his free hand covered his mouth from raspy coughs.

"Ooh, I didn't think I was dealin with germs. Maybe you won't roll after all. Oh whale!"

Meenah glanced back at Horuss with a smug grin.

"We makin progress!"

Horuss had to admit that he was feeling guilty for confiding in Meenah about his current predicament. After Meulin revealed to him about the happenings of that night, he couldn't help but feel indignant towards the 'ghost prince' but after he patched up the scar on her leg he had to ask someone to speak for him on his behalf. Turns out he didn't realize how deep the 'interrogation' could possibly get.

Meenah just proceeded to mock dance and spew lyrics in a sing-song voice.

"Bounce dat ass, shake dat ass like da twerk team!"

Kurloz flipped her off while she laughed maniacally.

"Bus' it, bus' it li-like da twerk team!"

All livid little Kurloz Makara knows right the fuck now is that this bitch will never be invited to check out his fifteens in his trunk ever again and he means never motherfuckin' _**ever **_again!

* * *

The water was steaming hot but it wasn't enough for him to avoid standing under the shower head.

Kurloz, after the spontaneous journey for wine and wraps, made sure both heartless detectives actually drove away from his street and became miserable. Meulin texted him around seven to ask if he was still available on Saturday and he consented, knowing there was little choice in the matter. His evening flooded with memories of _that_ final piece of his mental puzzle. Ultimately, on top of his melancholy and sickly disposition, he wasn't in good condition to fully restore those events, so he smoked to get rid of his cares and downed a cup of distasteful Nyquil which knocked him out until the crack of dawn, when he would have to face _her_ around eleven a.m.

It was nine thirty a.m.

His physique was rigid with neck drooped, head low and sharp, wet curls framing his bare face. His cold had lessened but he still wanted the steam from the shower to drain his sinuses. The off-white walls and lavender shower curtain had already gotten under his skin the moment he stepped in, so he washed every inch of his body, eased his tense muscles and kept his eyes closed. It was just too bright. All of it was too bright.

The purifying droplets drummed his skull and softened his skin but every time he wanted to turn the faucet the clear actions of his night were where his thoughts treaded. Something unseen, yet repulsive exuded from his pores and he was heavily compelled to stay longer than necessary. He just didn't feel cleansed enough. His wheat tan blended with the tenuousness of his blood. All he could do was whelm himself in the solitude of his home before he encountered his retribution.

'_I forgive you.' _

It wasn't enough to perplex him with mercy…

'_What I want to say can't wait for too long.' _

…She had to let her parting words sound ambiguous, whether she realized it or not. He boldly concluded that the impending confrontation could work in his favor, as well as hers if what he thought she wanted became true.

He somehow doubted otherwise.

Kurloz let his back hunch while the liquid beads rolled down his neck and soothed his spine. Now that his head was relieved of the drumming, irregular rhythm, he could properly unite his scattered memories without distractions.

_He remembered his favored colors that engulfed his vision and how it catered to his every sense. The collective laughter from his friends was prominent in his ears, as was the bass and blaring voices of others. There was the feel of royalty on his skin, the harsh taste of drugs and the mix of perfumes and deodorants. His mind's eyes revived the sheen on the red door, the plushness of leather on a chair beside a king sized bed, the ill-lighted and indistinct ambiance teeming with red and black…_

…_That vixen_ had opened that red door. She forced his inebriated frame down on the chair and she was the one to darken the view on the one-way mirror. While it did stretch to the end of the open corridor outside, so did their luxurious accommodation. He didn't bother to explore what it had to offer, as he was engrossed by her at his own volition. The black, eight-inch heels were left on the plum floor, she enjoying the feel under her slender feet and movements resembling that of a rotating wind spinner. Inky strands of long hair followed her and his gaze lingered where they lied on her bodily curves like water to glass sculpture.

He fucked her. It was no longer deniable.

There was the removal of his venerated headdress, her beckoning, slender finger and in blur he had pushed himself off the chair and leaned his weight atop her on the wine, satin sheets. He imagined her tresses that were scattered around like thin, neat trickles of black fluid. He summoned to mind the feel of her shoulder with the back of his hand, the softness of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, the trail of fingertips down her waist, hips and round hind end. He delved deeper within his senses, rubbing the tip of his tongue on the roof of his mouth at the reminder of the taste on his neck, tainted with carbonated beverage and sweat. He breathed in the smell of his favorite cigar smoke, partook in the squeak of her voice and drowned in her pheromones. Dark glitters accented her narrow eyes and contrasted with the powder on her face. Eager, ruby lips thinned and tugged upward to display her clown love.

She was beautiful in her own way and he let out all of his sexual frustrations. They were built up from _her_ celibacy, which was beyond his control.

He made sure to watch her beg, flipped her plenty way and drew out groans of ecstasy, if not to reaffirm his thin vanity. She was full and warm and willing and exactly what he needed. The night would have been perfect and he would have come home satisfied, uncomplicated by no previous ties, until he became aware that he had not kissed her on the lips.

Not even once.

The feel of her collarbone, neck and even jawline was a prominent sensation on his lips but when they neared to her own an incredible malaise had twinged in his stomach, manifesting the proclaim of his intimate endearment reserved for _another. _

So, what did that mean for him? It was unusual, since there wasn't one person, female or male, who wasn't worthy of his affection. It craved to give them anything they wanted, not one to abstain from empty pleasures. It was infinitely better than battling with his caliginous and potent arch-rivalry…

…that being his emotions.

Kurloz's forehead bumped onto the tile in exhaustion, nude frame barely touching water anymore. His hand moved in front of him to turn the faucet to 'off' which left the humidity to keep him warm. After a few moments of deep breathing, he reached and pushed back the curtain. Small beads dripped off his thin curls and he lifted himself to comb his fingers through the top. The other hand reached for a mauve towel on the marble counter to dry all over, wrap it around his waist, step out of the shower and onto a matching bath mat. It was in front of the sink and more importantly, the medicine cabinet mirror.

It was few and far between when he could tolerate staring at his bare-skinned face for great duration of time. His hands positioned themselves on his lower back as he kept his stern eyes downward at the grey shades of churned, solidified marble.

Kurloz _adored_ Meulin. She awakened innocence in him he thought was lost with her syrupy disposition. It was good for his heart, he knew that for certain. But now his adoration was evolving into a dangerous sentiment. He tried to envision life with his heart succumbed to his rival at this stage in his life and concluded that it wasn't the path he wanted to trek.

His eyes glanced up to the dissonant man in his mirror, brimming with emotion.

He was _capable_ of many feelings, even a deep, amorous attachment but it could not be formed with her and not now. He made the mistake of letting her into his life when she wanted and the further this would go, the more he would dread picking and re-opening mental wounds. There would be too many things to explain and not enough intimacy to expose it. He wasn't even sure he was ready for all that noise.

So that's why he would look forward Meulin's talk.

She would let their 'ship' sink gently, and he would agree, that being the end of them. As long as he had that audial confirmation, those anxieties would eventually subside and disappear. He would go on with life, helping his brother the best he can and working his nine to five with the occasional partner to indulge him. Everything would go back to normal. The situation never looked more fitting.

Kurloz couldn't look at his barren shell of a face any longer. One hand moved from his back and rubbed his jaw in thought while he looked at the analog clock on the wall.

Ten-sixteen a.m.

He would never be able to maintain their friendship if she dismissed the issue entirely and gave him a chance to develop those small, insignificant 'emotions' any further. It would eventually reach all across his body, then his muscles and even his very veins. It would make him think of her every day and every hour with no end in sight. The fragility of his heart would not be able to cope with the idea of her not reciprocating. It would eventually tear into the fabric of their friendship and she would be driven away.

It sounded childish but if he was to maintain his responsibilities as an adult, he had to take firm hold of what he has with his rival or else he would feel like he failed at a chance at anything involving deep, faithful love.

So he knew what would come to pass.

The hand on his jaw reached out and opened the medicine cabinet to retrieve his face paint in a circular compact only to see that it was gone. He burst into coughs and cringed.

"Shit."

He paused. His upper body teetered back and forward, fingers drummed on the mirror door without thought. His eyes scanned all across the marble, sink and wall while his throat clenched with pressure. He had a spare in his jacket and he would retrieve it after a cigarette. He rubbed his nose and abruptly left the bathroom, not bothering to close the medicine cabinet.

The crown remained in the bottom drawer of his dark brown dresser…

…And so did Meulin's gift.

* * *

The last time Meulin was dolled up in front of the Makara home, things did not go as expected.

Porrim's suggestion had stuck like crazy glue. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and pulled the end of her cream sweater dress. The diamond heart necklace she got for Christmas was straightened around her neck. Her legs were covered in berry stockings she had previously worn along with the black suede shoes on her feet. Inspired by the flair of the cougar's seductive mane, she moved most of her voluminous hair across her shoulders. She decided to leave the cat ears and tail at home to emphasize her sincerity. Her bare face and arms felt cool from the January wind but it didn't bother her much. The walk up the hills to his home had warmed her up, she not realizing what a feat it would be. But it was good practice, even if she did wobble once or twice. She smiled, causing her cream gloss to shimmer.

She felt better already.

A hand lifted, causing her cat purse to sway on its golden chain around her wrist and knocked three times on the door. In reality, it was still too nippy to wear such an outfit but since she wasn't that far from him she figured it would be warmer inside and he might be gracious enough to drop her off later on.

_Hopefully._

The door opened and revealed the man of the hour, wrapped in the purple throw around his shoulders with a loose, pure blue tee shirt, grey sweat pants and black socks. His eyes that barely opened looked her down and up and his appearance made him look strained with a small bit of his paint missing from under his nose which scrunched here and there. She could only assume he was exerting himself too hard at work.

"Are you okay? Should I come back another time?"

He put on a disturbed expression similar to the one she witnessed when last visited.

"No, I'm just…I didn't expect…"

He put his hand out and emphasized her attire. Meulin hunched her shoulders and curled her lips.

"Thanks."

Kurloz slowly moved himself out of the way and she stepped inside, feeling a burst of heat. Walking on tile floors was much easier than sidewalk littered with gravel. There was the nagging sense that his attention was still on her, even when she made her way to the love seat. She slipped off her heels, placed them beside the chair, sat and dug her feet into the softness of the burgundy rug. Kurloz closed and locked the door, trudged over to the center of the brown couch and sat with back humped and elbows on his thighs. A tissue box was right beside him.

He was sick. Meulin felt her confidence dampen but it didn't take away from her determination. One of his hands nabbed a small tissue and he began to dab his nose with it.

"…"

He looked at her, expression passive.

"Don't worry, I'm listening."

"Oh."

Meulin couldn't really hold his stern gaze and instead focused on his rather messily drawn black lip lines.

"I'd like to talk about what happened that night, on your birthday."

"Okay."

She nodded, swallowed a sudden nervous lump in her throat and continued.

"So, I know you were wondering befur where I was and if I was okay. Gamzee helped me with the bus ride and I got in by showing the jacket which-Oh! I furgot to bring it back…"

"Don't worry about it."

She traced the inside of her lip with her tongue.

"I'll try to bring it next time…I come."

"Alright."

Would there be a next time after that? She inhaled, sighed quietly and continued.

"Well, I got inside and I went up that metal stairwell beside the entrance. And um…I saw you down there."

Kurloz's body remained motionless. His expression was calm but in his eyes there were emotions so muddled that when she glanced up she couldn't pinpoint anything specific.

"That's where you were."

"Yes."

He slowly nodded, processing the information.

"What did you see?"

That was the hardest part. There wasn't a desire to recall those memories.

"I saw you in your throne chair. I saw all the people, or guests around you, and I saw the girl you were with…"

He stared, almost looking like he anticipated more but she didn't continue. There was a bodily shock that took over, leaving her deathly still. He covered his mouth, shoulders hunching rapidly. He must have some sort of cough as well. After the small episode he moved his arm away.

"What else?"

"I…left."

He nodded, dabbed his nose some more, looked to his right and threw away the wad in a small, black trash can beside the arm of the couch. His hands came together with elbows still on his thighs. He looked deep in thought about something and she played with the end of her dress, wishing she had a less noticeable tic.

Suddenly, he looked over to her and a sense of indifference was put between then.

"I slept with her."

_Oh._

"Did you know that?"

She started to breathe slower than usual, mouth slightly parted and brain trying to comprehend the unheralded statement. After a few moments she moved her head from side to side, nonplussed.

Kurloz only nodded, breathing in and exhaling a long sigh.

"Well, I guess you do now."

So this would be her motivation. Her choice, seemingly final in her mind had to be carried out with no regret. The problem was how _passive_ he seemed during the entire conversation. Could she live with that type of attitude during something this serious? And more importantly, how did she really feel about this new information? In all honesty, she hated being mature. It was hurting her in ways she didn't expect but the decision was already made. What he did behind closed doors wasn't to be of her concern. She committed to that.

"That was your night, so, I don't think I have much of a say in it."

His brows furrowed at the response. Did it seem unexpected? Possibly coming from her, yes, but she was learning to take herself seriously.

"Really?"

She nodded. It hurt, yes, the idea of another with him but they weren't together at the time and besides…

…this chapter of their 'ship' had to come to a close.

"Kurloz, I have no right to be mad or angry. You weren't with me and I know what we are; we're friends with benefits. I tell people all the time that we're on this 'ship' together but that's not the reality. And I was okay with this. I went into the club knowing that, but when I saw efurryone and you and her together…"

She felt a pang in her chest which expanded into the tendrils of her nothingness. It beckoned her to cave in and abandon her true feelings, opting to stay friends but she wouldn't. This had to be accomplished on her terms even if it could harm everything they've built on.

"…Something changed inside of me. I had this sort of 'experience' with myself and it made me become aware of what I would like and what I want in our affair. And what we have now, it isn't it."

She saw him nod and bite his lower lip, not even bothering to look at her.

This was it.

"Kurloz-"

"No."

He suddenly stood up, chest heaving and eyes filled with dispiriting emotion.

"No, don't even motherfuckin' say it."

Her mouth turned agape and her eyes widened in distress.

"What? Why?"

"What do you mean-"

He jerked his head towards the window, momentarily at a loss for words but looked straight back to her.

"Do you know how long I've thought about this day? I knew it would come eventually. I knew you would just be all like the others. I actually thought you were different and we could-You know what? Forget it."

Her heart clenched in incredulousness.

"_What?" _

"How did everyone not tell you about this shit? I've been through this conversation over and over again and I usually just breeze right through it but now, for some reason, I feel like I can't even handle hearing those words from you, Meulin. Because I thought you-…I thought we could just remain the same without all these feelings and judgments but that's always the one fuckin' thing that complicates everything. And now we're here and I just…I don't want to hear it from you."

He tramped over the doorway, unlocked it and pulled it open.

Meulin just sat, heart wrenched, throat dry and eyes unwilling to accept what she was witnessing. Kurloz only looked far off into a corner, unfazed and waited.

Sooner or later she slowly raised herself up from her seat, dug her feet into each heel and strolled over to where he stood…

…She grabbed the door and slammed it shut. _Hard._

Kurloz could only look in a delayed reaction. His head turned towards the entrance and back to the now fuming teen in front of him. Her chest heaved and her eyes glared at him. There was absolutely no way she would back down now. She didn't just walk all the way up those long hills in these damn heels in the cold for nothing!

He licked his lips, crossed his arms and focused his attention to the tile floor.

"You actually want to say it. I didn't think you were that cruel."

"_Excuse me?"_

He glanced back up to her. She bared her teeth and made her hands into little fists.

"This is not just about you. I've been thinking about this all week too! I made a very hard decision and in the end I think it was the right one for me. Even if I am getting angry with you right now I still feel the same way I did when I walked in this house. You're not putting me out! Even if you don't feel the same way I do, I'm going to tell you how I feel!"

"I _do_ feel the same motherfuckin' way!"

Her face softened, hands slightly relaxed.

"You do?"

"Yes! I want this just as much as you do. Which is why I really don't want to fuckin' hear it."

He walked over to the counter of the kitchen, face away from Meulin while she gaped at him again.

"What? That's terrible! Why would you tell me that when I actually have a chance!?"

He whipped back at her, face scrunched in disgust.

"What the _fuck!"_

They stood, both staring with little idea of what the other actually wanted. Kurloz extended his arms wide.

"Fine! You win, alright? Go ahead!"

He folded his arms back again.

"I don't give a fuck any more. Just get it over with, Meulin. Whatever sick shit you're trying to accomplish here, go for it. I'm listening."

Every sliver of confidence that remained slipped away from her fingertips. Her heart collapsed and released a plethora of sadness, guilt, confusion and a sudden urge to crawl under a rock, never to emerge. Her eyes dawdled on the tile floor, too overwhelmed to react and too numb to rouse any extreme actions within. Meenah warned her, just like she did so many times before. He was a man with little emotion to give but she thought she had a chance. He seemed so genuine and willing that it didn't take much to conclude that she no longer wanted to be the girl he could have his way with in the night and only be friends with in the day. She didn't want that anymore. She was tired of it.

Meulin pressed her lips together, eyes scrunched in a last attempt for tears to not rise below her lids.

All she wanted was a _relationship_. She was stubborn, reckless and even determined for him to give her a chance but it was too late. He already decided he didn't want to be with her or so she hopelessly thought. In reality, he didn't want her to say the exact opposite because his emotions were too far-gone and it would hurt knowing she could easily abandon him like everyone else.

So they stood in the midst of their confusion. Meulin was the first to truly realize the position they were in. She expected things to go wrong, she expected him to turn away but to actually have him reciprocate and refuse at the same time? That ached more than she possibly imagined. Her eyes shut and one hand rubbed her upper arm in an attempt to stay mentally leveled.

It was hard, considering Kurloz looked like he didn't give one care. He stood there, glaring at the tiles with all his might and tapping one pair of his toes.

Meulin's breathing became irregular. Her eyes glanced all around the room, the _uncaring_ attitude burrowing under her skin. Why was this so easy for him? Why was she the one who had to suffer? Was all those months getting to know one another and learning from each other and being happy together for absolutely nothing? What was the point, then? To what end?

She slowly put one foot out a heel and onto the cold, tile floor, then the other. She bent down, grabbed it with her hand…

…and chucked it right at him.

"_FUCK!" _

Kurloz twitched and flailed his arms at the impalement to his leg, only wearing soft cotton sweat pants. The heel had startled him but there was no means any damage. He looked at the shoe now on the floor in disbelief and back to Meulin.

"…You crazy-ass kitty-_bitch!_"

"Why do I have to be your whore?"

Kurloz only glared at her confusingly.

"_What?"_

Her eyes trailed all across the cool tile again, brows wrinkled in sadness.

"Why can't we be _more than this?"_

As soon as she said it, the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes had suddenly vanished. Her whole being was drenched in nothingness and her darkness coiled around her limbs. It commanded her to scream, hiss, bite and scratch. It wanted her to break down and cry, fight for him with all of her might and fall victim to her anguish.

But she wouldn't, or rather, she couldn't. It wasn't in her being to do any of those things. The new maturity she had developed swallowed her darkness whole and replaced it with an endless, dull pang. The feeling was indescribable. She didn't want to fight for someone who only thought of her as some compliant play thing.

She was worth more than that.

Kurloz had gazed all over her body for the amount of time she had been silent. Meulin felt a small headache coming on and thought it best that they end it there. She knew this would be an outcome. It was what to be expected. The sweltering, uncontrollable ache she felt in her heart was not.

She licked her lips and tried to form departing words, but it came out heartbreakingly feeble.

"I'm sorry."

She looked up at him. His expression softened and his arms were beside himself.

"I was being selfish. I know you don't want a relationship with me. I just thought that…"

She looked down again, putting her hands up in defeat.

"Never mind. You don't even want to hear it."

Meulin had said it so quietly, even she wasn't sure it came out of her mouth. She bent down to take her swede shoe in one hand, thought better of it and straightened up only to see that the other shoe was under the kitchen table.

"I'm sorry I threw it at you. I don't know what came over me."

She took a few steps forward but halted, the dull ache turning into a paralyzing misery.

"Um…I'll leave. I just want my shoe back."

She saw Kurloz caress his fingertips with his thumbs. His eyes never left her face, chest now rising more noticeably. He grabbed the throw from around him and tossed it over a chair in front of the table. She was so caught up in all the emotion that she didn't realize he was still coughing and sniffling. It was all beyond her. Just another reason why she didn't belong with him.

He didn't bend down or grab her shoe or nothing of the sort. Meulin looked up to his face only to be confronted with a sharp gaze that pierced her very core. He had the power to make her feel so much and that's why she had to get away, or else her emptiness would surround her in its chasm.

She patiently waited but he didn't budge, mouth starting to move.

"Do you?"

She furrowed her brow.

"What?"

"Do you really want to be more than this?"

She parted her lips and tried to form a cohesive answer, still in the beginning stages of a headache.

"If you don't want to, then I won't ask for it. I just don't think I can stand being just friends for much longer. I'm sorry. My heart is weak and I like you a lot. But again, I knew you weren't into relationships so it's my fault. I have no one to blame but myself."

She looked down with eyes reflective of a young woman who had spoken beyond her years but also a harsh longing that could never be fulfilled.

Kurloz put a foot in front of the other, striding until he stood right in front of her and blocked her line of sight. She inhaled and turned away, not wanting to be close to the man she could never be with.

She felt his hands on her chin and he lifted her face. Her expression turned to that of absolute torment. Even now that urge to lurch on him was strong, but it would be needy and unbecoming. So, she settled with staring his wonderful lips, those lips she would so desperately miss.

If she dwelled on these simple thoughts, she may never go back to being happy-go-lucky for a long time.

"Meulin."

Her heart clenched at the shape of her name on his lips, eyes fluttering at the sudden mist under her eyes.

"Yes?"

Kurloz smiled, eyes filled with a deep understanding.

"I thought you wanted something else."

"…Huh?"

"I mean, I thought we got together 'cause you were gonna tell me that you didn't want to be with me anymore."

She wrinkled her brow at the statement.

"Really?"

Kurloz shrugged, at a loss for words. The ache in her chest worsened.

"But, you told me you felt the same way about me. So…but that means you thought…you wanted me to break this off?"

"No,-…It's complicated."

"I don't care."

He sighed.

"I wanted, at first, for you to break off our friendship because…of what you said."

"…What I said?"

"Because I'm weak, like you."

She felt the emptiness erode like ocean waves to rocks.

"I thought if we stopped being friends then I wouldn't feel what I feel for you now. And I couldn't deal with you actually saying you didn't want to be with me. So, I didn't want to hear it. And I guess in the end, I still don't."

He chuckled humorlessly, eyes looking downward.

"It's too late for me. I like you a lot too, Kit."

"You do?"

He nodded and she finally noticed the intense, bittersweet emotion in his eyes. She grabbed the sides of his shirt, overpowered by a sense of abandonment.

"But you don't want to be with only me."

"How do you know that?"

Meulin only shrugged, glancing all over the Phthalo blue color like it held all the answers. She felt him squeeze her shoulders and slide them down to caress with his thumbs. Her chest expanded and became delirious from his touch before she looked up again. He spoke.

"Yeah."

She craned her head in confusion.

"I'm done. I'm out the game. You won't see me with anyone else."

The delirium intoxicated her whole being. Her eyes lidded and her lips parted, unable to think straight. She was relieved, ecstatic, stupefied and dazed all in one. The only word that came out of her mouth was:

"Okay."

Kurloz weakly grinned and released her arms. She did the same to his shirt but he took her right wrist in his hand and pulled her over to the brown, ripped up couch. He sat down with both legs on the cushions and tugged for her to get the hint. Meulin was placed on his lap and he didn't make any sudden movements, only keeping her right hand in his own.

She could now look at his features without feeling that immense pressure in her chest. She examined the dark lines around his hardened eyes, the curved pattern of grey under and across his cheeks and the white powder that made it all stand out. Her sight went back to the vertical slits that made his lips look like they were sewn together. She missed all of this. She missed him.

Her left hand carefully placed itself on his cheek and he scrunched his nose again, indicating a sniffle.

"I'm sorry I threw my shoe at you."

"I'm sorry I called you a crazy-ass kitty-bitch."

Meulin chortled, face scrunched and eyes closed in absolute amusement. Her stomach clenched, causing her to bounce and chuckle soundlessly. She pried her eyes open to look at his endearing smile.

"Then we're even!"

The smile turned into a grin and she didn't hesitate to tangle her left hand in his massive curls. He lowered his eyes and his free hand rubbed her waist down and up. She pulled him closer and he nudged the bridge of his nose between the curve of her neck and shoulder, as well as bending his legs upward. She could feel the heat from his body and the mass of hair tickling her face. Her eyes were fixed on the calm shade on his cotton shirt and she felt his torso contract now and then from his sickness. After a while, her arms encircled his shoulders and his glided around her back, squeezing their bodies together.

"I missed you, Kurzorz."

Kurloz pulled back and pressed his lips against the corner of her own. Her face lit up before he moved away, slid down and rested his head on the arm of the couch. Then he proceeded to hold back his massive coughing fit with one hand.

"Aww."

She caressed the side of his face with her freed fingertips.

"When did you get sick?"

"Probably from the party. That's what happens when you're around too many sick motherfuckers at the same time."

He closed his eyes and she could only smile at him.

"Don't worry. I have vitamin C at home."

He grinned and let out a breath.

"I need a break from my life…by the way, was that outfit for me?"

"It was actually fur me. But it can be fur you."

He chuckled.

"Just don't forget the cat stuff next time."

"You like it that much?"

He nodded and put both hands beside her waist.

"Then I won't."

After it was all said and done, they had lied there like that for a good period of time. She kept caressing his curls while he coughed and sniffed his sickness back in. It was amazing, she thought to herself, that she was still in his home and he actually agreed to be with her. She was finally in a relationship with him. It was just too good to be true.

Meulin pressed her lips against one of his eyebrows.

"I'll help you feel better."

* * *

Meulin eventually tried to give Kurloz his jacket back. He drove her home later in the evening and she ran inside to retrieve it but he only kissed her in return and said to keep it for the time being.

So it stayed in her closet, a new addition to the many surprises that were given to her.

Kurloz's cold lasted until the third week of January and he was afraid he wouldn't recover in time for Gamzee's 'Nineteenth Subjugglator Bash'. It was astonishing that their birthdays were even on the same month but 'Meulin the friendly feline nurse' had cured him of his cough and sinuses before the big event. She attended the small get-together earlier in the day at the Makara home, side-stepping shady company from his correction facility and gave Gamzee a small book filled with different variations of mint pies. The younger brother was thrilled and made sure to hug her plenty times in gratitude. When it was time to go to the club, however, she politely declined and excused herself. Kurloz drove her home, understanding the conflict and never spoke of it since.

February arrived in the blink of an eye.

Their newfound 'Relation-ship' sailed a simple drift, once again patching up the remains of their friendship. She wondered sometimes if that would become habitual but he tried his best to make up for it when she came over the first week. They sat in the living room and doodled. He did nothing but complain about work and the preparations for Valentine's Day and she did nothing but pout about a year-long science project she hasn't even gotten started on. They did more things with their time eventually; she found a schedule for upcoming movies and he made homemade spaghetti for dinner.

After that, they lied on his bed, scantily dressed with smoke floating from his painted lips while she held his free arm and watched the strings of smoke go each way, it not concerned with narrow paths and straight lines. And they said little, basking in each other's presence.

Before they went to bed he had inquired about the fading scar on her lower leg and she dismissed it as a common household accident.

Valentine's Day came by the second week, on a Wednesday and he texted her to come over. She was excited to know why and he said he had a surprise, nothing big, but enough that he thought she would enjoy it. Meulin already planned to come over anyway to give him a huge pack of his favorite red, waxy fish and a drawing of them on a sailboat. What she expected was a kiss and possibly a night out, not a homemade doll. It was the size of a teddy bear, dyed green with big fluffy cat ears, a tiny tail and visible stitching. Apparently, he had started late last month because he was busy with work and other things. She took it in one of her hands, observing the small black buttons for eyes, the tiny black-stitched smile and a tag with her name on it and cried, holding her lackluster gift in a plastic bag. With lots of comfort, cuddles on the couch and sharing of the candy she got the bright idea to surprise him with an impromptu gift the following weekend.

The ban of her celibacy was lifted.

She was still walking on clouds the third week, sleeping with her new doll every night. But, for some reason, her heart remained on solid ground. Something was still missing and she couldn't put a finger on it for the life of her. While she didn't expect warm fuzzies, dates, roses and proclamations of love from him anytime soon, she was starting to have second thoughts about the course of their 'ship'. It seemed too 'friendly' and monogamy was supposed to lead them from what they had to something more traditional. It didn't quite feel like it was heading there anytime soon. At the same time, this was okay because maybe his past still had something to do with it. She didn't want to press him into something he didn't feel naturally, she wanted to be considerate.

Meulin got all her close friends together on a Thursday at her house and tempted them with tiny, homemade tuna sliders. She finally confessed their changed status and had to pour everyone a glass of water so they wouldn't choke to sudden death. After they got over the initial shock and asked all their prying, intimate and even embarrassing questions, she got right down to it: should she demand more from him or keep their pace?

Horuss still had his concerns but that was normal because he was naturally protective of her. Meenah, surprisingly, said to have fun and not always jump from such serious heights. Sure, his age was ideal for long-term but that didn't mean she had to worry about it now, which was quite sound advice. Aranea's two cents turned into priceless wisdom and it stuck with Meulin like cream to whiskers:

'_Meulin, there will come a time when he might do something so incredibly open that you can't help but fall in love then and there. It's up to you if you're willing to wait and let it happen.'_

She did want to wait, but for how long?

Six months seemed a bit short for her to think about things like love anyways. She was only concerned about the romantic aspect. No need to make any sudden moves. School was still a top priority after all and she was still trying to earn those top grades so she could be accepted in nursing school. Those poor, little cats and canaries were her calling! She decided to take the latter advice and let their ship wander in the way it wanted, how it wanted, with no added pressure. Yes, she thought, they should still have fun and enjoy what they have together. They were still friends after all...

...The following weekend communicated otherwise.

It started with a small kiss. They were both wrapped up in sheets, sheltered in his living room because of the pouring rain. They took a small nap on the couch and he woke before her, thus having more time on his hands to flip through various channels. She poked her head out of the purple throw, said something about it being too cold and he offering to warm her up.

The press of his lips made her cheeks tingle and her chest expand with a strange, yet comforting pressure.

The following Saturday, he tried to show her how to smoke properly. She accidentally swallowed and burped up a small bubble to which he laughed in response and she couldn't stop being embarrassed about. Her palms sweat, her words stumbled and she avoided otherwise normal gazes from him.

Sunday became more relaxed but she couldn't help but be nervous around him. When she would leave to use the bathroom and come back to his room, her heart would pound faster than normal and her pallid cheeks would flush with a tint of rose. Kurloz would just lie there with that same languid, amused smile on his face.

The following week caused for some deep soul searching at school but no big conclusions came out of it. She would anticipate his small texts more and more, turning her phone in her hands and sometimes bringing him up with her friends for no reason. It was nice for a time.

But on a Friday, the first of March, when she came out of an otherwise relaxing evening bath an unexpected thought process manifested. She dried herself off, rubbing tiny lavender bath salts off of her skin. She noted the roundness of her stomach and looked up in her bathroom mirror, discarding her towel on the floor. She wasn't a thin model or didn't exactly have the prettiest skin due to her previous acclimation in a state that did nothing but rain until late summer with blue skies scattered into seldom occasions. Her hair had character, was soft and when it dried the ends curled into swoops but that didn't mean it wasn't stringy and poufy from time to time. These were minor details she didn't mind living with. What she did mind was the Halloween candy, the rib-sticking meals during the holidays, the chocolate ball and the waxy fish. She ate well and was tiny height-wise but if she wasn't careful, her curves became more noticeable.

Meulin covered her bosom with her arms, turned to the side, sucked in her stomach for a few seconds and released it. The small bump of fat was still there. It made her regress back to _that_ memory.

_The attractive vixen._

_She_ was in possession of smooth, milky skin, the curves in all the right places, the booming femininity and the long hair that swayed in every direction. She was ideal and the one Kurloz had to sleep with. What did Meulin have in comparison; personality, or perhaps her upbeat attitude about life? There were only so many times people could say that before it got redundant and silly and just plain untrue.

Meulin was suffering from poor body image, self-esteem issues and would dare not tell a soul. This was her lone battle to fight, even if it was mentally draining. She remembered drinking tea and eating crackers on Monday evening, buying more fruits, vegetables and fish at the local grocery store on Tuesday, then munching on snack foods for the rest of the week, giving into her small cravings. There was that nagging feeling in the back of her mind, the annoying darkness within telling her she wasn't good enough for Kurloz and that he could do better if he tried. And at a time, he _did._

It cracked at Meulin's confidence. She thought about his compassion and courteous nature and never wanted to let him go and then thought about what she had to offer in return and was tempted to set him loose. What did he still see in her? It was really her who wanted to pursue this relationship in the first place and it was he who was actually willing to let her go. And why shouldn't he? He was cool, he partied and was more experienced in the ways of adulthood. She was just a cat-loving role-player with an avid desire to ship non-existing characters. It ate at her very innards that night, she wearing his jacket and holding his homemade cat doll, crying herself to sleep.

It only got worse the next morning.

Meulin was going to his home in a few hours, around dusk. It was the first weekend of March and it was windy. She was about to take a chance and wear warmer clothing but she decided a loose, navy cat sweater, jeans and black sneakers would do instead.

* * *

"This guy actually thinks I'm going to drive in this fucked-up weather just so I can get five. I swear, the cold just makes ninjas stupid sometimes."

Meulin giggled beside him. They were both on his bed; he sat upright by the nightstand with a grey pillow behind his back. She was positioned so that her legs rested over his lap and his arm was wrapped around her shoulder while he texted on his business phone. It was around seven in the evening, the only sources of unnatural light coming from his windows from stray street lights and a lamp from his work desk that was moved on his nightstand. The whole day was spent cuddling, watching marathons of 'Rambo' on his laptop and bringing up simple topics of discussion. She was silently comforted that he wore similar dark attire; a black, long-sleeved turtle neck sweater and navy jeans. As usual, her feline appendages and backpack were lying on top of his desk while her shoes were stored under.

"Sorry, Kit."

He flipped his disposable phone shut and set it by the innocuous skull before directing his attention back to her, eyes tracing the baby blue cat on her sweater.

"That's just what I have to deal with sometimes. Money is money but damn, I'm not that broke!"

"I understand! What are we going to do now that we're all Rambo'd out?"

"Iunno. I had long-ass week. I like that my boss plans events early for maximum profit but Easter isn't until the last damn day of March! He wants my drafts for advertising by Monday."

She scrunched her lips in sympathy.

"They're working my 'zorz so hard. Didn't you struggle with the Valentine's ads too?"

"God yes, but it was worth it. Everybody and they mama showed up. Not to mention free for ladies until eleven? Oh yeah, it went down."

Meulin looked over to the window above the nightstand in thought. They had celebrated early in the day while he must have joined the festivities at night. She wondered whether or not there were other pretty vixens to scope with wandering eyes...

"Did you find one that you liked?"

"Huh?"

He looked up at her just as she hid her pensive face with a smile.

"Find what?"

"Nothing, it's okay. Maybe we should take a cat nap. That always makes me feel better."

"That's a bitchin' idea!"

Meulin moved her body away so that it was in his similar position before he got up and walked out of his room, most likely in the direction of the bathroom. She scampered to her backpack, deciding to quickly change into something more comfortable. She tugged out some long, grey pajama pants and a white tank top. She didn't notice Kurloz had come back right when she had removed most of her clothing so only the underwear remained. She jumped when he squeezed her side without warning.

"Eek!"

With face now red, she looked over to the fact that he was down to nothing but his blue-checkered boxers.

"Damn, you way ahead of me."

He moved the pillows flat on the black comforter before he lied down with hands behind his head, one leg bent and eyes placed at the ICP poster on the wall in front of him. This way of sleeping had been new. She had asked about it one day and he simply replied that he felt more comfortable around her. It was no thing for him to be clothed in this manner, even with the face paint on. Too bad it wasn't the same for her. She hastily slipped into her sleepwear and even undid her bra by unhooking the clasp, taking off the each strap from over her arms and slipping it off by the front. The rest of her clothes were messily shoved in her backpack before she approached him.

"…How does it feel to do that?"

"What do you mean?"

"To be comfurtable like that, you know, just to just wear nothing but your boxers."

Kurloz shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. You've never slept in the buff before?"

"Well, not _nude,_ but not really in my underwear either."

"You should try it, then. Shit feels crazy good, especially when it's hot. And 'cause the heat in this house doesn't really have an in-between, when I turn it to warm it means motherfuckin' warm."

She laughed and shyly intertwined her hands behind her back.

"I think I wouldn't look as good as you."

Kurloz lifted his arms and lowered them beside himself, putting on a rather concerned face.

"Why you say that?"

"No, nevermind."

"…Aight. But I'm tellin' you, sleeping like this is amazing. I can't do it all the time 'cause of nosy-bro upstairs and the fact that I have to be presentable during sales or at least an emergency and I know I get lazy when-"

Meulin wasn't paying attention anymore, gazing downward where her fingers stroked the soft fabric of her tank top. She took a bath, shaved and she made sure to cleanse every nook and cranny there was. Sometimes she would prepare for these nights, just in case she was feeling…_magnanimous._

No such day came yet; they were having fun, taking it easy and still acted like close friends but her uncontrollable heart, she steadily realized, was not. Sometimes, she would think about how comfortable he made her feel. Kurloz could kiss her in ways that gave her small goose bumps all over, or preach about wisdom that made her swoon and admire his place in life. It was always the small things that kept her so inclined. She also knew how important it was to share her first time. If she could take away anything from all those sex-education classes, prepubescent growing-up books and even her own mother, it was to give herself to someone that cared about her. It still seemed too early to think about any of these things, but even then…

…she might not find another man like him in her lifetime.

Her arms crossed, lifting up the loose top before gently chucking it on the work desk. Kurloz had stopped talking, propped himself up with his elbows and worried about her unresponsive nature but remained silent at the sudden action. Her thumbs dug beneath the band of her pants before pushing them down, lifting her feet away and placing them beside her shirt. Kurloz could now clearly see her red polka-dotted panties with its white bow in the center of the stretchy band. Meulin looked over to him and smiled.

"…Cat got your tongue?"

"It got somethin'"

She giggled, took a few steps towards the bed and crawled over his body before she lied down next to him. He shifted over to properly face her, their heads linear.

"So, how do it feel?"

"A little cold."

"What? Really?"

He craned his neck to squint at the digital, room temperature meter below his poster. After he deemed the attempt futile, he lied back down.

"I guess it went off. Want me to warm you up?"

"In what way!? I know you!"

She grinned while he became mock-offended.

"What? We can't just cuddle like we normally do? My body temp is hotter than yours so I'm a valid-ass heat source. You better be glad I'm offering."

"You're so silly!"

"You know what I do how I do when I do it, ninjette."

She scrunched her nose and cackled, inching closer and tangling a leg between his while his right hand rested on the side of her waist. He closed his eyes while she took the time to notice his healthy shade of skin; the small black freckles that were scattered on his abdomen and the small, faded scars across it. Then her eyes trailed back up to the almost amusing comparison but at least he could paint over his face. She thought about powders and blushes but for some reason it was too much a feminine stretch. Maybe it could hide other things like the almost faded surgery scar across her hip and inner thigh.

"…Kurloz?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think of other women?"

He opened his eyes, knowing how serious of a question it was.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't be the only woman you think about."

"Why not?"

"I don't know! That's weird to think about, even fur me. You have to think about some women from time to time, maybe on the internet or in a club or some that just pass you by! You were a 'Mack Daddy' befur me, weren't you?"

Kurloz furrowed his brow, looked at the wall behind her and stuck his tongue in his cheek. She figured he was at a loss for words at the label and she had been too when she first heard it from Cronus.

"…Is this a trick question?"

She giggled and shook her head.

"No, I'm just curious!"

He glanced back at her.

"That's a bit much to be curious about. Listen, if you're still worried about me running of into the night and-"

"No, I trust you! But, you know we're friend, right? You can tell me anything."

After a moment he relaxed the muscles in his face and body.

"…Okay. First of all, I'm a man so yes, it's pretty much wired into my brain most of the day. I'm not that big on looking at porn 'cause I could just go and do all that myself. I might for inspiration, but I mean…"

He shrugged his shoulders while she scrunched her mouth in disbelief.

"Yeah, right! Isn't there some 'Busty Juggalo babes dot com' or 'Faygo spraying boobies dot net' or…I don't know…something?"

"You cannot be serious!"

He removed the hand on her hip, covered his half of his face and laughed.

"I'm sorry, but I am!"

"Oh fuck, that is too funny! I might have to go clear my browser history."

"What!? No, don't do that!"

She playfully pushed his shoulder while he snorted and put his hand back on her hip.

"But to clear it up, I am not _that _much of a ladies man, no matter what anyone tells you. I actually prefer something more long term just because I can manage it."

"I see!"

They lied there, each amused by the strangeness of the conversation.

"But seriously, why you askin' all of this?"

She shrugged and stared at the ashy grey pillow he lied on in thought. After a while, they landed back on his lips.

"Can I confide in you?"

"Of course you can."

"I kinda don't know what you still see in me. I know I can be funny at times and I try to be happy and stuff but I feel like you can always do better, you know? I think about all the women you could be with but you're stuck with me…"

His face hardened and she regretted ever opening her big mouth. She silently prayed this wouldn't turn into one of those impromptu 'you need to feel good about yourself and your life choices' interventions but he miraculously kept quiet for the time being.

Finally, his eyes softened and his lips started to form words.

"Meulin, you're different to me. You-"

"I'm sorry but purlease don't go on about how 'great' and 'open' of a purrson I am and how I have such 'personality' and I should up my self-esteem beclaws it's easier said than done. Trust me, I've been told that way too many times by Horuss-"

"Horuss?"

"Oh! Horuss Zahhak. I never told you about him!"

"_Zahhak_?"

"Mmhm!"

He cringed.

"Uh…let's stay back on topic, okay?"

She shrugged.

"Okay…"

"If you don't want me to go on and on and on about how beautiful you are and that I am with you at my own free will then what do you want me to tell you?"

"I don't know…I compare myself with others too much. It's just what I do when I think about you and me. I don't wear any super fancy dresses or put on lots of make-up efurry day and I never find anything special about me that you would go crazy ofur. Sometimes I feel like you're lucky beclaws you have the option of covering your face up. I don't. And I'm sure I'd just get weird looks. Sometimes I just…don't feel worthy. I see all those thin, purrty ladies that could go to your club and instead of admiring them I just feel bad about myself."

She barely uttered the last part, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. She felt stupid. All she wanted to do now was dig into her backpack and put her clothes back on. How could she feel this way about herself when there were girls bigger than her with way bigger self-esteem? Oh, how she wished she could just nab a little of that confidence so that maybe she could be humble about her life instead of seeking attention from someone she knew already made her feel acceptable.

She felt Kurloz's hand leave her hip as he abruptly sat up from his spot on the bed, stood and walked out the doorway.

Meulin laid there, chest swollen from a sudden anxiety. Her eyes focused on the subtle indent made on his firm pillow. Seconds turned into minutes as her eyes wandered all across his room. It had such character to it. And that's when she noticed her birthday presents on top of his brown dresser. It was reclined and between the line of stitched voodoo dolls. Now she felt stupider.

Maybe he left to ponder whether or not he could handle this type of situation. While he was great with advice this was a much deeper topic, border-lining confessions made to intimate lovers. She shouldn't have said anything. This might as well be a burden for him to bear and to say the wrong words was to risk the whole mood of their night. He might be older than her but there's always the possibility of being inexperienced about certain aspects of life. This could well be one of them.

She sighed, pushed herself up on the bed with one arm, rotated her legs on the edge and scooted so that her feet could firmly plant themselves on the floorboard. Her head hung low and so did her eyes, skin covered in small goose bumps now that her source of warmth was gone.

It wasn't worth looking, she thought, when she saw his feet come into her peripheral vision. Her neutral expression was unchanged and most of the hair over her shoulders blocked her view. The bed sunk when he sat beside her, she sensing that intense stare of his. He most likely waited for her to face him but she didn't want the eventual mediation of her feelings towards herself just yet. It took a moment to placate her wild heartbeat and lessen the pressure in her chest. Meulin ran her fingers through the right side of her soft hairs all the way to the back, straightened her back and looked beside herself.

She froze.

Her hand stopped its movement, elbow sticking out of place and her lips slightly parted. She didn't know exactly where to look first, eyes fixated on his own which stared with a deep intensity. So that's where she started. The dark outlines of paint made them look exotic and slender, but in reality they had an almond shape. His darkened eyebrows were thick like she thought and still matched the color of his curly hair. What had struck her most was the tiny, black freckles scattered across his face similar to that on his chest. Her eyes spotted a few on his forehead, one or two on his cheek that were lighter than the rest, his nose, and finally his dusty lips. His face wasn't lighter than she thought rather it was the same shade as his wheat-colored skin.

Her eyes darted everywhere in a sudden frenzy, like the vision of him would disappear. They went from the darkened circles under his eyes and back to his tender lips. Her mind finally comprehended the unimaginable fact that she was staring at his face, his _real face._

She gradually lowered her arm away from her line of sight, the impact finally taking hold of her entire being. She turned her body so that it directly faced him. He didn't move, or speak, and just sat there to let her soak up the rarity like a sponge. It was unbelievable how gorgeously his blood blended with his cheeks which were still damp from water. It must have taken him some time to scrub everything off.

Her fingers slowly curled and grew the incessant urge to _caress_ them. Slowly did her right hand ascend, fingertips grazing softly on the skin like it was fragile paper. They expanded and her whole hand cupped his cheek, feeling the softness and heat that produced from it.

It was like a dream.

He closed his eyes at the sensation and she scooted closer, now noting his long lashes and how his lips were different shades from one another. There was even a small patch of visible stubble that formed on the bottom of his chin. This was done for her. It was all because she had to drone on about trivial matters but he went and revealed his visage anyways. How long, she thought, had it been since he's shown another his appearance like this? How long since someone was actually close enough to witness, or even embrace it in this way?

She placed her other hand on his bare shoulder, restraining to kiss every part of him, press her cheek against his own and never let time take away such a moment.

"You're beautiful."

Kurloz eyes kept closed while she felt a small gust of breath on her nose when he chortled. Faint lines became visible on the sides of his lashes while a small dimple formed on his lopsided smile.

"Not exactly what I thought I would hear but thanks."

Meulin laughed breathily.

"I'm sorry. You're _handsome." _

"I'll take that too."

She couldn't stop grinning. She didn't think she would ever stop grinning. Kurloz finally pried his eyes open and she marveled his gleeful face. She wasn't even cold anymore; his joy and act of intimacy had kept her warm the entire time.

"You feel better now?"

Her heart expanded inside her chest, fluttering wildly like a hummingbird. A new feeling replaced the cage inside of her. It was hard and sudden and even overwhelming but it didn't matter. She looked over his beauty and could only feel gratitude and love.

Meulin Leijon was in love.

It started with a cautious, chaste brush of lips, a wordless expression of gratitude. She moved the hand from his cheek to his other shoulder and gripped with care. Those small goose bumps pricked her cheeks again and her cage was filled with a gentle heat that made her winged creature still with content. A small exhale escaped his nose and his hands placed themselves beside her waist. Curiosity got the better of them both as she steadily moved away from her simple kiss and enjoyed the sensation of skin sticking together before it released. Her affection made a butterfly trail to the corner of his lips, jawline, cheek, brow and even his forehead. The kiss lingered, channeling all of her newfound love for him through the physical connection.

She inhaled the new scent of fresh cotton on his skin and his hands took firm hold of her waist. His head moved away to plant his own kisses on her neck, making her body tingle all over and she slowly lowered herself back onto the bed, pulling him with her. Her legs parted and bent beside him while he comfortably lied on top of her, hands threaded deep in his hair. His head raised, only to press his lips back onto hers again. A while back, it had been embarrassing to finally confess that she never French kissed and she was told not to think much of it and pretend it was a game. Whatever he did, she could just copy and someday she had gotten more comfortable with the prospect.

They slowly moved their lips together in a practiced unison, him eventually requesting access to her mouth with his tongue and she obliging while they moved them around in bliss. He squeezed her sides and she moaned pleasantly, her hands sliding to the top of his shoulders. He broke the kiss and she relished in the passionate sensation that followed, straightening her legs out and trying to form speech with her sweltering lips.

"I want you."

Kurloz scrunched his eyes shut and blinked a few times, not quite catching what he just heard.

"I'm sorry?"

He waited until she had finally opened her own, she sporting a euphoric smile.

"What did you say?"

"I want you, Kurloz."

The back of her hand brushed delicately across his burning cheek and he just stared, stock still.

"I want you like this."

He looked over to the night stand in concern, like it was to repeat what she had said for confirmation, then back down at her, face explicit in hesitation.

"Wait. Are you sure?"

She nodded, blissful smile widening.

"No, seriously, that's a big step. You can't take that back, Meulin. You-"

She playfully slapped her hand on his mouth and held it there.

"…You're talking too much."

After seeing his unchanging eyes she moved her hand and he tried once more.

"Meulin-"

"I'm sure, Kurloz. I am! Really! I want to."

He glanced over to the night stand again, face pensive and lips silent before he finally looked over to his brown dresser, sat upright and leaned forward to move off the bed.

But not before his knee slipped off the edge, causing him to flail his arms and his whole body to plummet straight down on the floor in an ungraceful manner.

"Fuck!"

Meulin didn't mean to burst out laughing; her head craned as far back into the pillow as it could and her hands clenched her bare stomach in mirth. She saw him stand with haste in the corner of her eye, one hand ran through his hair while the other placed itself on his waist. It almost seemed like he didn't know what to do next. It was adorable.

His head faced on way and his feet faced another. Finally his hands directed him towards his first drawer, opening it and once again facing the stacks of paper and unnecessary trinkets. She saw his arm dig deep and shove through it, head moving around stiffly. She put one hand on her mouth to quell her snickers when he tossed an empty cigarette box on the floor. Then he closed it to open the second drawer, hunching his back and searching through his shirts, then the other drawer, futilely digging all around his folded jeans.

Meulin took this time to rise from her comfortable spot on the bed, scoot to the edge, tip-toe to the front pouch of her backpack, unzip it and pull out an unopened packet of condoms.

Kurloz had looked behind him; body now crouched and became motionless.

"Do you…always…?"

Her cheeks burned at the Implication. _No,_ she just didn't have a box lying around. Her friends had actually visited a sex shop one evening for the halibut, enjoying the perks of stripper heels, oils, lubrication and the like. Aranea bought back a keychain for her with a witty saying and Meenah, well, gave her the box of embarrassment. But at least nobody could tell her she wasn't prepared. Meulin rapidly shook her head, Kurloz closed the drawer and stood, showing an ardent smile. They both headed back to the bed, she sitting down and laying the box beside her while he chucked to himself.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, I just…damn."

It really did sum up the entire night. He nabbed the box and opened it while she lied back down on the bed and closed her eyes.

Meulin somewhat envisioned her first time to involve a trail of rose petals, or maybe taken by some Caribbean native that she never had to see again or perhaps on some obscure, bi-curious cruise if someone got her plastered enough. It never involved being with someone she cared about for a realistically long period of time. And besides, the only experience she's ever had is with numerous x rated fictions. She could only imagine where this could lead. Kurloz could tease her, head to toe and then ask if she was ready and when she agreed he could break through her virginity. It would be slow at first, but steadily would he send her into rapture with his unusually adept love making. She could scratch all across his back, scream out his name and maybe they would orgasm in perfect synchronization while proclaiming their undying love for one another; a happy ending for all involved.

Meulin Leijon's first time unexpectedly debunked every fantasy she had ever read in her lifetime.

First of all, she was too nervous to focus on _any_ of his affections. Sure, she had experienced them and reacted accordingly. Who wouldn't when he had licked down her neck, kissed her sternum, given attention to her breasts and even caressed the outside of her panties with limber fingertips? She naturally drew out hushed, tender whines of lust but her mind raced like a sped up clock. Would it hurt or wouldn't it? Did she use enough bubble bath? What did she eat earlier today? What _didn't _she eat today? How can he stand doing so much of the work? Should she interject? In the end, her questions had morphed into thoughts she couldn't take seriously and she distracted herself with him asking visual permission to take off her panties.

She consented, of course.

Kurloz spread her thighs wide open and proceed to please her with his deft and willing tongue. It was unlike any night he had done so. Normally, he learned what aroused her the most and moved with timely expertise, leaving her soaked and satisfied in a matter of minutes but in that moment his advances were deliberately unhurried. He would kiss her at times, savoring every stroke of and graze of his teeth. It was arousing in thought but in action it was unbelievably embarrassing. She avoided looking down altogether, fixing her gaze on the ceiling with a hitch of breath here and an elicited, soft moan there.

Then came the _really_ embarrassing part, for him at least. After he was done teasing, he crawled on top of her just to retrieve a lucky square in the box that idly beside his analog clock. She had elevated herself with her elbows, unable to look away when he sat back and pulled down the last article of clothing, discarding it behind him. His legs crossed as he tore off the wrapping, held the tip and rolled it down his thickness with a precision. It almost seemed like he had been nervous as she ogled with curious eyes and a thought crossed her mind Meulin figured would never emerge. For some reason, she decided to voice it.

"…Is that actually going to _fit_ inside of me?"

Kurloz couldn't help but snicker and she playfully shoved his knee with a foot.

"Sorry."

He tossed the wrapping on the nightstand and loomed over her while she smiled and lied back down on the bed. He lowered himself so that they could share an innocent kiss before she leaned back and asked:

"Can we do this without the light, please?"

He agreed, understanding the scrutiny and told her to squeeze his shoulders if she felt any sort of pain or discomfort. She nodded and at last he reached for the small, protruding knob on his lamp and pushed it, sending the room in subtle darkness.

Kurloz spread Meulin wide. She tried her best to focus on her breathing and quell the tension of her beating heart. He managed to fit the tip in without problems and her hands firmly held onto him while she let out a deep sigh. He eased himself in continuously before she sunk her nails in his skin and gasped from a sharp pain. It couldn't be described as nothing else but breaking a thin piece of skin. It was different for every woman, or so she heard; some breezed through it, others bled and some even cried. She guessed she would just be the unluckier of the bunch. Her fictions never described it as something this intense, like a bleeding cut.

He waited before her grip softened and the muscles in her face relaxed. She nodded to signal that he could continue and he had buried himself halfway in before her nails dug, her toes curled, her eyes squeezed hard and she bared her teeth at how it really, really_ hurt. _

It might have been the faint lighting from the window that gave her away but whatever it was, it was enough for him to kiss her forehead before carefully pulling out. He removed her hands from his shoulders, placed them beside herself and left the bed altogether. She exhaled in a small relief and the tender ache took time to subside so she focused on her breathing again. She felt his weight back on the bed and opened her eyes to find him putting a small bottle on the nightstand before shifting over her and lying on his back.

Meulin looked over and Kurloz curled a finger at her. She pushed herself up with hands and knees, placed her hands on his shoulders again and swung a leg over his waist to position herself above him. At first, she squinted at his contours when he attempted to sign at her, but he accentuated his movements again and used his face and mouth in combination.

'I want you to set the pace.'

She nodded, grateful for the opportunity and leaned down to share a lock of lips. After that she fumbled to position himself inside her again but with his help she had gradually descended and shivered to discover a cool, slick sensation that made it easier for her to move downward. There was no discomfort and she achieved him stretching and filling her completely, which was now one feeling she could finally relate to. She felt herself convulse while she let out calm breaths, he caressing her sides in reassurance.

It had been daunting to move all by herself. He would slip out once or twice, she apologizing dramatically and he hunching his shoulders in gentle laughter. Belatedly, she got the hang of rocking her body back and forth and gripped his shoulders with more force. Her head relaxed and faced down, moving in a smooth and cautious pace. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced and she focused on trying to find that 'spot' or that 'bundle of nerves' or what_ever_ it was called!

She completely forgot about her voice and however she sounded like, it must have been pleasant because he moved his hands up her sides and pulled her downward. Now her body was linear with her face beside his. As soon as he grinded his hips forward those feelings of passion and lust sprang to life. She kept herself up with her lower arms firmly on the comforter while she breathed out sighs and whines beside his ear. It had fueled his fire and his hands slid back down to her sides, speeding up his tempo and almost making her lose all inhibitions. She messily tried to match his pace and his hand moved farther down to her hips, controlling the movements for her and the sensation was too hot and euphoric for her to maintain control. Her mouth was agape with bliss, an abundance of squeaky, curt cries flying out with scrunched eyes. Every moment she was filled with the man she knew she loved and happily given herself to was a moment she enjoyed.

Her hands desperately tangled in his curls and tugged. Next thing she knew, his head craned backwards on the pillow and he moved even faster to the point where it looked like she was in pain, but it was far from it, even the opposite. She hollered a long, drawn out cry before catching her breath while a sweltering desire got hotter and hotter until her stomach clenched, her voice stained and her body leaked fluids from orgasm. He kept going, making it more intense and he evoked one last wail out of her before slowing down and taking his time. Once he stopped, she lied down on his chest, feeling their mingling heartbeats while she bathed in the glow of post-coitus.

After a while, he gingerly rolled her over, locked their lips in a messy kiss before he pulled out for the last time. She felt him shift to the far left of the bed by the wall. The cool air soothed her still mildly flushed body, her natural breaths calmed her down and she didn't figure out that he had finished himself off until it was too late.

Meulin leaned her head to the left, opened her eyes and looked up at his upright torso positioned on the center of the bed. His back was reclined with legs bent and one hand between himself. The sharp contours of his profile showed his craned neck and the rise and fall of his chest. She could only assume his free hand held the used bundle of latex. His head moved to face her and the outlines of his mouth pulled into a lazy, thin smile with his own eyes barely open.

A new sense of affinity and attachment severed the blurred line of friends and lovers, their ship in an earnest course towards somewhere still far off.

Kurloz was the first to move, scooting across the bed and making his way across his room and outside the doorway. Meulin assumed it was towards the bathroom and eventually she would have to as well so she sat up with her weakened arms. Minutes passed and she fully calmed before he came back with a new pair of boxers. She cautiously stood, grabbed her backpack and he managed to plant a kiss on her cheek before she headed out towards the light on the left side of his room and opposite the wooden stairs.

It took a moment to clean up but she avoided looking at her face. Her wild mane, however, was fully noticeable in the corners of her eyes and she settled with the thought of brushing it in the morning. She wet her face, put on plain grey, cotton panties and a white tank top before turning off the light, walking back into his bedroom and shutting the door behind her. The tossed panties on his work desk were shoved it in a separate compartment inside her backpack and zipped up. Her love already burrowed himself under the sheets and after slipping beside him with his open arms and tangled legs she cracked a tiny smile. The unnoticeable stains above would most likely be dealt with tomorrow.

The rest of the night was full of surprises.

Kurloz and Meulin stayed in their position for a good half hour before he leaned over, turned on the light and complained that his arm had fell asleep. She snorted and giggled herself into an apologetic fit. Another debunked aspect of fictions; no matter how romantic, there are some positions that are downright unrealistic. He suggested for her to turn around so they could spoon but that didn't end well due to her messier than usual hair. So they settled with their heads and bodies facing one another without touching and he turned off the light again. Meulin couldn't stop beaming over the fact that his breath was hot against hers and the contours of his face looked like he practically squished his face on the pillow, or like a perk he had let go of for far too long. Late in the night, she completely concealed herself in the sheets and pressed herself up against his chest, but that didn't last for too long. She became hot and moved the covers away. He kept shifting, bumping into her now and then and it disturbed her sleep. It went on for hours. She would face away from him and he would curl beside her, forgetting the hair. Then he would lie on his back and she would huddle one of his arms. After that, they both eventually fell into a deep rem sleep. Her face pressed against his shoulder, dreaming of the bright daylight and the morning when she would awake with happy thoughts and affirm that they weren't a dream, that it was real, and it was something she could keep with her forever.

* * *

INTERMISSION

Chapter 5: Something In the Way You Are

Part II

* * *

Meulin roused from her sleep to an acute spasm inside her vaginal walls.

She cringed and impulsively pressed both hands on top of her panties. While it left as fast as it came, the relief to her tense face was long overdue.

It was certainly one innovative wake-up call.

From the looks under the sheets, Kurloz and she were more or less still positioned in the same way they fell asleep but it looked like her head was beside his waist. She peeked from above. Beauteous, white daylight flooded her sight and blurred the ends of her lashes. Little by little did it focus and the side of Kurloz's abdomen came into view. She smelled an unpleasant ash and with eyes now wide, she craned her head up to see her lover reclined on the wall with his pillow behind him. His eyes looked tranquil as he indulged in his guilty pleasure and she murmured.

"Hi."

Kurloz snapped out of his secluded daydreams and looked downward only to give her his signature smile as he held his cigarette above the ash tray that was placed on his lap. Even though the curls of his hair looked more tangled than normal, giving the impression of bedhead, it still framed his face regally while the natural luminescence highlighted his otherwise mirthful appearance.

"Well good morning, precious kitty cat."

The memories of last night were still fresh inside of her mind. It had not been a dream after all. His face was still wonderfully bare and he still was in possession of her timeless gift.

She beamed and carefully lifted herself from under the sheets while Kurloz held his ashtray up in his left hand. Her body mimicked his position and she looked over to the window which exposed the same weather she would see at her home state. It was blank and foggy and a nice touch to the awaited morning after. The temperature must have worked overnight because she was just as warm outside the sheets as she was inside. She attempted to shift so that her body could face him but not before her face tightened and she held onto her lower stomach again.

"You alright, baby?"

He put the ash tray down and gently placed a hand on her upper arm. She let out a few breaths before smiling up at his apprehensive expression, not catching what he mouthed to her.

"What did you say?"

"Are you alright?"

"Mmhm. It must be healing or something."

"I should've been gentler."

"No, it's okay! I don't regret anything."

He exhaled, slowly released his hold on her arm before he held a neutral expression on the comforter and took a heavy drag of his cigarette. She took this opportunity to observe him with curious eyes. It wasn't noticeable at first, but now she could plainly see a trace of dark stubble across his jawline and even his upper lip. He was an unshaven guy all over but the thought of it there never crossed her mind.

Strings of ash expelled from his mouth and nose before he lowered his cigarette back down on the ashtray and looked back at her again. Combined with the discoloration under his eyes, he almost looked like a different person. Kurloz was one with a few deep misfortunes to carry but the visual enhanced it to the point where he looked stern, prideful, focused...

...even _virile._

"Sorry…"

He looked back down to the arising ash and put out his cigarette before leaning over and setting the glass tray beside his polka-dot analog clock. She caught the harsh scent in her nose and lightly wheezed.

"It's okay with me."

"It shouldn't be, it's a bad habit I need to kick."

He leaned back on the corner of his adjoining walls and held his arms wide open.

"I'm lonely."

She grinned and crawled over to him, sitting on his lap and laying her head on his hard chest while he wrapped his arms around her in a fierce hug. Her head rose so they could share a small kiss, she still smelling chemicals from his tainted lips.

In spite of that, she still cherished the feeling.

He was the first to break it off, skin still sticking like an after effect and inquired about her wellbeing.

"Tell me how you feel right now."

"I feel great, like I can take on the world! I think the pain stopped too."

"That's good. I was worried for a sec."

"Don't worry. I'm good with recofurry."

He nodded while she put her hands on his shoulders and rested her forearms on his biceps.

"How do _you_ feel?"

"I feel good."

She beamed.

"But, I should say that I was nervous as fuck last night."

"…Really?"

"Yeah."

She was slightly comforted by this fact, seeing as she was in jitters until the very last moments of their love making. He sure did do one hell of a job at hiding his, though.

"How is that pawsible? You were so calm and gentle. I bet all the lovely virgins line up fur you all the time!"

He chuckled and kissed her forehead.

"Nah. You were my first."

"Huh?"

"My first virgin."

Meulin tilted her head, hoping he wasn't telling some sort of joke. It wasn't exactly the response she expected.

"Seriously?"

Kurloz nodded, amused expression still retained.

"That's…that's really weird. I mean, it's not _weird _but I just thought that since you're so charming, someone must have at some point."

"Maybe. Even if they did, they probably wouldn't have told me."

"Why not?"

Kurloz stiffed his lip and looked back over to the comforter, deep in thought before he finally answered.

"I don't think anyone trusted me."

She looked all around his delicate face with pensive eyes. He was a reserved person but...untrustworthy? Considering the few times he did tell her white lies, it would make sense but he couldn't have been that way growing up. She wondered for a moment what his childhood was like. There were still so many questions she wanted the answers to but settled with her own statement.

"_I _trust you."

He looked back and smiled lovingly at her, pressing his soft lips against one of her eyelids when she closed it for him. It was all the reassurance she needed that he was indeed the one she wanted to give herself to, physically and emotionally.

"…That feels nice."

She opened her eye again once he leaned back on the white wall.

"Well aren't you gonna ask me why?"

He chuckled and ran a hand through the side of his hair.

"Alright. Why?"

"Because I love you."

Kurloz's hand froze, much like hers when she had found out he removed his paint. He blinked a few times, letting it slowly descend onto the sheets. His face softened, almost contemplating the existence of those words she had rightfully uttered. She felt the small hummingbird in her chest still with a calm tenderness. Her lips had parted from anxiousness and her eyes fixated on his while he gazed back onto the chalky, pitch dark bedspread. It was like looking into a processor and waiting for any sort of displaying reaction. His face was placid and the emotions in his eyes were unreadable. Meulin's chest slowly expanded with a small excruciation and her back straightened. The arm behind her loosened its hold and he finally looked right at her.

His gaze lodged a shard into her dark chasm, making her tendrils of darkness shrivel in uncertainty. It was cold and thin like ice. The breath that she inhaled distributed its cool feeling inside her chest and her own stare intensified with wonder. It lasted for what seemed like a long time but only seconds had passed, she still eagerly waiting for his reply.

But what came was not something she thought to prepare for, or believe would happen. He observed her like a foreign creature, eyes flashing with a beauty of vast emptiness. And then she saw a glimpse of something new and bright, his eyes softening and the edges of his lips tugging into a small smile. The hand on the comforter ascended to cup her cheek but the coolness reminded her of his kin. She smiled back, comforted by the now visible flashes of emotion.

He then uttered words she would never forget in her life.

"_Thank you." _

The shard penetrated deeper until it shattered, taking with it whatever confidence she had left in absolutely everything and anything.

Kurloz's smile widened, eyes slit in a serene gaze while he slithered his arms back around her waist and pulled her into a tight hug with his face buried in the crook of her neck. She just looked up at the bare, blank white walls made even brighter by the bare, blank sky that surrounded them. It was no longer comforting, or nostalgic of home or even lively. Her small hummingbird fluttered with shock, now devoured by a nothingness that could not harvest life, or growth or any warm-blooded mammal for too long. She realized that was what she had looked into.

It was a certain death.

Her expression reflected that of her heart looking back on a never ending cycle of setbacks. The pain suddenly severed her poor bird's wings clean off and she grimaced at the thought with teeth gritted. The inhale to her lungs didn't feel cold, only vacant of a life that would be missed and she dared not let any tears rise from her eyes, utterly sick of expelling them for the man who embraced her so.

The arms around her moved so that his hands could languidly trail up and down her rigid back. The pressure inside her chest only escalated while a dozen anchors sunk their ship with no hope or liberation. She, along with it, drowned in her own darkness from the path that was not her own.

And it hurt. It hurt more than any part of her broken virginity. She was thoroughly despaired.

His head lifted to face her and she only smiled, putting up the emergency shell of her happy-go-lucky demeanor. For now, she would be his cat girl with high hopes and spiriting dreams.

She didn't see him say it when they shared a deep kiss. She didn't see him say it when they dressed in the bathroom. She didn't see him say it when he had cooked them both a warm breakfast. He never said it when they stood beside the entrance of his home while they hugged and kissed and wished each other well. She didn't see him say it when he offered her a ride and she declined, lying about wanting to enjoy the pale weather that reminded her of home. She didn't don her feline appendages, he never asked why and she walked the long trek home with a wave and a small goodbye. He certainly didn't come running to her and confessing while she blended into the mood of the daunting sky like a chameleon.

There was not a sob or a choke or even a small whine. She ignored every concerned face that passed her by.

She didn't see a text when she came home, undressed and huddled in her bed, holding onto the meddling device. It never came when the silent tears fell from her face, one by one and her darling cat curled up against her in bed. She finally broke down, cuddled her greed dyed cat doll for dear life, screaming to the unmerciful stars above.

She eventually went to sleep with that one single thought.

He never said it. Not once.

And she was completely convinced that he never would.

* * *

He knew that one day this time would come and its presence would surface…

…Kurloz Makara.

Poor, desperate and _**pathetic **_Kurloz Makara.

Underneath the veil were gritted teeth, neglected disease and a rather abominable scent. In order to recover whatever life there was left in his relationship, he would have to lift the concealment of obscurity, it lunging out and hauling at him just as equally as he would haul upon it. He would reflexively shield his eyes with his hands from the scratches, tears and decay. He would instinctively cower at the flaky skin and mixtures of pink and white fluids, bleeding with carelessness. He would compulsively disgorge before his arch-nemesis in plain, uncensored sight.

It would quite possibly be the worst thing he could ever do and he would be willing to do it for _her_. He would suffer but it was incomparable to the almost deathly clutch on his heart at the suffering he knew was inflicted within her being. What _did_ happened that night? Why didn't he reciprocate under the delicate circumstances? That was the veil he undoubtedly had to lift. It led to his cold, twisted, emotional downfall that intertwined with his past life. He should have known he would be too careless. He should have known he would cave into the fragility of his heart, shriveled with whispers of want and foreseeing her salvation.

Now he couldn't give up and he wouldn't let go.

Knowing there was too much felt and too little said when they last saw each other in the protection of his bedroom, he was conscious that he fucked up on a new set of levels with some, he thought, might not be reversible. So that's why, when she assuredly writhed inside that fateful morning, he would writhe on her behalf. He would tear his lips with his teeth, shut his eyes, hold in his stomach and infiltrate his infected wound deeper and deeper until she would be willing to heal it back to a stable condition.

It was a Wednesday in early March and Meulin sat in his living room.

It was hell and back to get her there.

On Monday, he texted her in the evening about trivial matters and she responded with a few sentences, not the norm from her usual blocks of happy paragraphs. On Tuesday, she responded with one or two words, using less of her cheery emoticons and only the ones that displayed little feeling. At some point, he asked to meet somewhere to talk but she did something she had never done before, she made up an _excuse._

[TUESDAY, MARCH 5th, 3:18 PM] NINJETTE to RYDAS PERSONAL: ~(=^‥^) I'm sick right now.

[TUESDAY, MARCH 5th, 3:18 PM] NINJETTE to RYDAS PERSONAL: (^・x・^) Sorry.

It hollowed his very bones and that night, when he got out of the shower, he forced himself to stare at the face of the man who let this happen and who had done wrong for the umpteenth time. He smoked a whole pack of Newport cigarettes and even got fresh with his brother at some point.

On Wednesday morning, just when his workload had been exceptionally busy, he became unfocused and a heavy thought punctured through his chest like a knife. He was increasingly losing the one good thing that had stumbled into his life in a very long time. He was squandering for the one woman whom confessed her _love_ and _trust_ and even allowed him the precious token of her _innocence. _

For what? The death of his flesh and blood, years of silence and a less than favorable childhood?

He remembered the first day they met. It was that moment when he actually opened his damned mouth not just because of passion and drunkenness but because it was intrinsic. It just _felt right_.

Meulin Leijon was a physical elixir.

A divine _miracle. _

That, Kurloz concluded, above all else, was worth exposing his loathsome truth.

He texted her that evening, prayed to all the celestial god-hoods that she would respond and even with the stale disconnect between them, she always managed to bless him with one. He asked for her to come over as soon as she could, the matter of grave importance. She said she was still sick with a runny nose.

And he replied that he didn't give a good motherfuck and would help her get over it.

So there Meulin was, the recent light of his life, sitting on his fuzzy, burgundy rug. One of her favorite Vietnamese soap operas was on with subtitles and he bought her small sushi rolls, texting her friends in desperation as to what her favorite snack was, orange juice and a small packet of tissues. In reality, he was skeptical of her so called 'sickness' and thought she couldn't have procured it right when she left.

Turns out she wasn't lying and that made him feel even worse.

The plastic box of rolls was half eaten, personal carton of juice barely touched but the tissues were used like insulin to a diabetic. She sniffed and blew and dug for treasure when he finally used that as an excuse for why she didn't sit next to him. She was being considerate as usual and that thought alone made him feel better. Her cat appendages donned her frame along with a familiar dark navy sweater, ripped blue jeans and white sneakers. He bit his right thumb while he hunched over on the far left of the brown couch, wearing a loose, grey tee shirt, baggy cargo pants with a black belt and blue converse. The 'mask' on his face was neatly painted back on. He sneered at the dramatic couple on the screen, knowing his sore attitude was because of her lack of attention.

Kurloz leaned over on the couch and tapped her gently on her shoulder, disheartened when she flinched away from him and turned her head so a little more than half of her face showed. He would have told her how adorable she looked with her pinked, irritated button nose but with the slight upturn of her lips he decided it would be against the mood.

"You need anything, like, more tissues or something?"

Meulin grimaced, more than likely because she couldn't read his lips in her position so she fully turned so that he could catch her frown.

"What was that?"

He signed instead.

'Do you need anything?'

'No, I'm fine.' She signed back.

It was clear to anyone that she wasn't. Meulin sniffed and turned her head back to the sixty inch flat-screen television and slumped at the commercial break.

Kurloz straightened his back, pressed his hands flat in a prayer's position, put the sides of his fingertips on his bottom lip and closed his eyes. If there was any supernatural messiah looking down at him, he begged within an inch of his life that he would not regret what he was about to do. His future action would be comparable to a dark secret that one could ultimately destroy him with and if used in a vengeful way, his emotions would more than likely never heal.

It was now or never.

He groggily lifted his frame up from the couch, found the remote sitting idly on the arm of the love seat and turned the television off. Meulin twitched, not knowing what happened and looked over to see the device in his hand. She looked up at him irately, her adorable lips pouting and eyes boring tiny little holes inside his thick skull. He knew better not to interrupt her episodes. He threw the remote back onto the seat cushion beside her backpack and signed again.

'Come with me.'

Meulin only watched as he made his way to the top of the stairs, he looking back and seeing that she didn't move. It was understandable because there was a lot of baggage still below his home but he did not want the conversation casually on the couch. A point had to be made. She quickly downed her orange juice, stuffed the last sushi roll in her mouth, squished her tissue packet in one hand and slowly stood. Her sneakers dragged her towards him, head down and eyes low.

He was thoroughly lucky to have someone who could be livid with him but not be completely done with him. It was just one of the many reasons she was admired. It would be a feat for him to do the same.

They made their way downstairs and inside his room where he flipped on the celling light. Beforehand, he courteously changed the sheets to a cream, fleece bedspread and baby blue pillow cases with matching sheets. He walked over to the edge of his bed and sat with elbows on his knees, hands interlaced and eyes on his floor. How on earth he got the idea that wood, cream carpet and a white rug under his dresser was in anyway coordinated was beyond him. Now he thought it stupid and unfashionable. If Porrim were here, she would have no doubt smacked him across his head.

Meulin walked over, somewhere in a fifty degree angle relative to him but did not made an attempt to sit. He glanced up to see that she stared down the floor just as intently. This was also understandable as she stood in front of the sacred space where he deflowered her. At least she didn't have to be physically reminded as she slept. He ripped the sheets off simply because he couldn't deal with it.

Kurloz moved one of his hands so that she would have to pay attention to his lips and signed, using his face for emphasis.

'Please.'

Meulin rubbed her fingertips on her thumbs and reluctantly sat down on the edge to his left, far enough so that she had her space but close enough so that she could read his lips if need be. But he wasn't having that. Kurloz scooted over, swung her lower legs onto his lap and tugged her closer to him. Naturally, she had become shocked at the nerve and right after folded her arms and puffed her cheeks, a small trail of snot running down her nose. He didn't bother to look her in the eyes and only focused on the floor next to her so that she could readily decipher what he had to say.

Her brows turned down and her eyes slit with reluctance at her new position, snatching a piece of tissue and rubbing her nose. His palms formed sweat when he placed his left hand behind him and his right on one of her knees. He shivered at the feel of his pointed tongue licking the sensitive part of his inner lip. A great chill immersed inside him like the start of a bad fever.

"Um…"

Kurloz begrudgingly knew where to start and it pained him to have to say the two words that inherently loomed in his mind. He widened his mouth and breathed great amount of air before he gathered all of his strength and courage and just…let it out.

"_My mother_."

He froze and his mouth remained parted, the tip of his tongue grazing the center of his molars. He wanted so badly to bite and rip off what dared gave life to those words. His stomach clenched and his heart sunk while his eyes slit and tried again.

"I guess my dad too and my brother. We all, uh, we lived back in Detroit where I was raised. I was the first born so I got to experience what was happening at the time before he did. Gamzee, I mean."

The upturn on Meulin's lip had loosened up and her eyes softened but her overall demeanor remained skeptical of the potential sob story taking place. He was certain this was how she felt and he exhaled, speaking in a more relaxed manner.

"I don't know how it started, or didn't start, I guess. My dad worked in general motors and my mother worked as a local nurse for a neighboring hospital. They were really smart so we never lived without a roof over our heads or food on the table. I was just a regular-ass kid, except I had more than others so I was always picked on the most. She didn't figure that shit out until the damage was already done. For some reason, they thought it would be promising if I was put in a regular elementary school but they were so ignorant of the lack of funds, the bad teachers and even the shitty racism. I don't know why but I always was tight with my black friends just 'cause for some reason I acted too much like them. I wanted to stay upbeat and keep my spirits high and never wanted to take much seriously which was what we acted like. They always laughed about somethin' and made due with what they had and it was nice because it distracted me from the fact that I didn't want to come home. I didn't want to face the fact that-"

Kurloz abruptly paused, closed his mouth and stuck his tongue between his front incisors. He could bite at any moment, relieving himself from hearing his own reality but the hold from his teeth lifted and he continued.

"-that whenever I came home, I came home to a place where my dad or even my mother never told each other that-…they never…_shit_."

He closed his eyes and exhaled. Even now, when the phrase didn't hold personal context he couldn't say it. Instead, he clutched air into his hands for emphasis and opened his eyes again.

"_That expression, _I just, I never heard it. Even when they should have been saying it to me, I was too little to realize just how fucked up their relationship was in the first place. They were only together just so I could live in a complete household, that's it. I mean, they were married and they worked hard and cared about the lives of others so it wasn't like they weren't compassionate. But I guess it was never really brought into the house. And maybe that's when I turned into a little delinquent."

He lifted the hand off the bedspread and scratched the back of his head, wondering where to go from there. In the corner of his eye, he saw that her previous expression changed dramatically. The tension in her face disappeared and her eyes were transfixed on his lips, eyes reserving little judgment. At least, that's what it seemed like. He didn't bother to look and only continued to speak.

"So, yeah, I just became a class clown after that. I had this best friend named Isaiah. God, he was like my other half. We fucked around, got in trouble at the same time, threw paper planes at the teacher and had to write long, boring-ass sentences on paper afterwards promising we'd never do it again. We always did, of course. We would mess around in gym class and we had this small clique at lunch that would talk to everyone else. It was fun. I didn't do well in my classes though and my fam was too busy having their own little silent arguments to give a shit. He was like a home away from home, you know? It lasted for about half the school year, and then…to this day I still don't know all the details but someone told me he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Later, on the news, I found out he was in the vicinity of a drive-by. I shut down after that. I didn't do well with people anymore…

…Dad came down to the school one day and asked the teachers what was wrong with me. I guess the one that I got in trouble with the most figured it out. I gave up on learning and I think that gave him the courage to bring home the baby brother I never knew I had. Gamzee was around three and I was maybe eight or nine at the time. All I knew was that it wasn't from my mother. Later on, he confided in me and said it was to get back at her for having some sort of affair at work. One of my aunties was taking care of him and his real mother died of drug overdose, but he looked healthy to me. He knew that I was lonely fuckin' child with a broken up home and when I saw Gamzee wrapped up in that lavender blanket I guess my dad figured it would be enough motivation to get my act together…"

Kurloz nodded, agreeing with himself that it's what he did. He remembered the brief screen saver he had shown Meulin with the same verbal image.

"But around that time, I was already fuckin' with the wrong crowd. I got myself into a small gang and all we did was break car windows, steal what was inside, ride our bikes everywhere, post up inside abandoned, burned down houses and laugh about it all. Sometimes, we would put our money together and eat at a pizza place and play games and pretend we were just normal kids. I would come home with some scratches and bruises and make up bullshit stories but for some reason I would be there around the time my auntie brought my brother. I tried to teach him to walk. We'd be watching wrestling and I would sneak candy when auntie wasn't looking, just stuff like that. I was a pretty terrible older brother but you got your front teeth knocked out if you said I didn't care about him. I was compassionate but I wasn't no pussy."

Kurloz took a risk, looked at her face and gently pinched her chin.

"No offense."

Meulin was still dabbing at her nose here and there. She let a small smile grace her lips as she responded in a nasally voice.

"None taken."

He nodded and turned back to the floorboard.

"I knew what love was and I knew what it meant to give it to someone so I assumed that's what I was doing with him. I had a purpose when I hustled and meddled in grown folk shit when I shouldn't have. I would come back home with this drive to take care of him. When I would just chill on the floor at home, Gamzee would just look at me sometimes and I would get it. This is what family is supposed to be like. You're supposed to help and protect and be there through the bad and good. But, I mean, when you that young and your parents ain't really shit, you think you know everything…

…Dad got laid off his job and mom's wasn't enough to support us all. We moved to Beforus around, what, two thousand? Two thousand one? I don't remember anymore. All I know was that we should have done it sooner. I love where I came from but at that time, and even now, there wasn't shit for us. It shaped me to be one cold motherfucker and I think I was worried that Gamzee might turn out that way too. We all did. But we moved here into this house and I guess I thought I had it made. No snow to deal with and a fresh start to look forward to? Shit. We would go back and visit relatives in the summer but other than that, this was home…

…A couple years later, my mom thought it was a good idea to baby sit other kids just 'cause she thought I did a good job with him. Gamzee was nine at the time, maybe ten, I don't know. I was fifteen and halfway through my freshman year of high school. I struggled through middle school just because I was still a class clown and a troublemaker and all that. You couldn't get me to shut the fuck up even if you rolled duct tape on my mouth. I did way better once I graduated and since I kept my grades up in the fall, she told me about this girl Gamzee had been going to school with. Their parents had _mad_ chedda so she talked to them about how good of a brother I was and boom, I got the job. It just so happens that's when I got to meet miss water bitch herself. Man, if that was not the worst job I've ever had to work at, I don't fuckin' know what was. She was a prime, spoiled ho to death! I can't even begin to tell you how floored I was when she got a gold trident for her thirteenth birthday! What the fuck! You know what _I _got when I was thirteen? A bag of Cheetos and some CD's."

Meulin slapped her hands on her mouth to cover her breathy giggles but Kurloz didn't mind. He was enjoying voicing his life into one huge, laughable mess.

"Shit, I had to get my cake a week later just because my fam was struggling with the mortgage and paying the bills! Anyway, I babysat her for about one more year before I finally got my diploma. I think I even humbled her at some point. Fuck, she would just yell and scream when she didn't get her way and rely on mommy and daddy. But she knew I wasn't having that motherfuckin' shit. I told her, too, 'That ain't how you treat family' and she would just make faces and try to lie about shit but there were cameras all over that damn estate, what was there to lie about? It wasn't all bad, though. I saved enough to cover my senior prom and even got to go on a road trip in the summer with some of my closest homeboys. Remember when I told you I didn't think about going to college? Well at some point I actually did. I decided where and when but I still didn't know what I wanted to do. I only knew I wanted to do something with my life. I became roommates with one of my good friends at the time and started to work so I could cover the first year, but um..."

Kurloz, for some reason, found this part a little easier to mention than the others. Meulin fumbled with her hands on her lap because they both knew what was coming.

"In the winter of two thousand and seven, when I was away, Gamzee had committed homicide. I got a phone call from someone who was watching the news and it was the top headline. I immediately drove home to crime scene stickers, flashing lights, ambulances, neighbors across the streets, all of that. And for some reason I didn't even think about my parents. All I could think about was Gamzee. Was he okay, was he safe, when could I see him, why wouldn't they let me see him? Then I saw the two body bags on those stretchers. I felt it in my gut that this wasn't an ordinary murder. Soon enough, when I asked one of the policemen and told them who I was, he said Gamzee had stabbed them twenty three times, twenty _three _times. All I could think about was how impossible that shit sounded. I mean…that's the number of the day he was _born_; January twenty third, nineteen ninety four. I didn't believe it. I waited a few weeks later for the autopsy results and there it was, right on paper. Just…"

He paused and felt a sudden chill flow through his face.

"Turns out my own motherfuckin' parents were going to 'sacrifice' him before their 'great messiahs'. Mind you, I didn't know anything about this shit until then but they both had background checks and all the dirt came out. They were part of this small, religious cult years and years ago. They didn't bring Gamzee in because I needed a brother, they brought him in because they wanted to see him grow up and disprove whatever bullshit birthday voodoo nonsense that they actually believed in. I didn't see any evidence of this, not a goddamn thing! Apparently, once he turned thirteen, he would evolve into this great killing machine so they tried to finish him off in his sleep. He had a knife under his pillow and actually stabbed them both; eleven on my dad and twelve on my mom. He had no choice but to act in self-defense because they fucked him up so bad he actually had evidence of drugs in his system. And as a result he became mentally unstable…

…I said little after that. I would visit Gamzee in his correctional facility from time to time until I turned twenty one, put the house in my name and signed to be his new guardian. And I told him I didn't like talking. I would say shit to cashiers, business people, work-related things just to handle business but I felt this desire to be selfish. I think it hit me hard that I didn't have my parents anymore and it hit me more that Gamzee got hurt from them. It was just so conflicting and whenever anyone would ask me about it, I didn't even want to tell them. Anytime someone new found out who I was it had to go back to the murder and it had to go back to my brother and I was so motherfuckin' _sick_ of it. So one day, I just stopped. You know what Gamzee told me? He said, 'brother, that's what the mirthful messiahs would want'. So we learned sign language together and that's how we communicated the rest of my life. I actually didn't have to 'join' his cult and he didn't have to 'convert' me. Since I was blood, I was 'already signed up for the dark carnival.' I still don't know what that shit means, there's a lot of things I still don't know about and that's why I can't tell you about it until I've got it all figured out."

Meulin nodded, bunching up the little tissues she held in her hand.

"I decided that then and there I would be responsible for him. I wanted us to heal from our past and tried to move on. Once I got him into a regular high school we stayed with our grandparent back in Detroit for one summer when I was twenty two. I wanted him to go back to his roots and experience more of where he was born. I didn't realize our lives would change after that. Gamzee had taken this interest in Juggalos; Juggalo this, Juggalo that, the music, the weed, the gatherings, the Faygo, I mean the goddamn works. I knew it existed so I said 'fuck it, why not? He led me to this unofficial gathering in the forest somewhere, I forgot specifically. But shit, I can't even describe how at home I was when I got there. Everyone welcomed us with open arms and kept calling us new 'family'. I guessed that it spoke to Gamzee because it broke him out of his shell and I liked it because everyone was cool-ass people who were living normal lives and when they all got together it was like one huge, non-stop party. God, it was the two craziest weeks of my life. I even spent one weekend in this couple's trailer home just because that's how comfortable my ass was…

…I started to realize more and more how shitty of a guardian I was. I knew Gamzee would sneak off sometimes and come back with band aids on his arms and white powder on his clothes. I couldn't say shit because what could I say? I got high, I got drunk, I fucked, I got high some more, I partied and when it was time to reprimand him it was too late. We both stayed in our little worlds and we couldn't be tied down. It was this idea of new family that really won me over because they actually told us the phrase we had never heard in our entire lives by our own parents. It was every day, all the time, like everyone had Tourette's or somethin'. We rarely saw our relatives when I was young and when my auntie would tell me how she felt I just didn't understand. But I did with Gamzee. I thought it was good for him to hear it from people he liked because I wasn't able to. We were just two fuck-ups who had found our calling. As soon as I got my first face paint, man, it was all over. I didn't grow up with it, like I know I told you and countless others but it's just what I say so I don't have to explain myself. Anyway, I felt changed and renewed and just…a different motherfucker. I didn't see my past anymore, only what I could do now for the only person that mattered to me. So that's why when we left, I cracked down on him a bit. I took on my fuckin' responsibilities, I kept him off hard drugs and I sobered up to handle what I had to handle and I wouldn't have done it for anyone else but him. Yeah, I still partied and had fun but I knew what came first. And in the end, no one is really to blame. I saw that summer as a way to really move on and I prayed that he would just do the same."

After that, Meulin became a secondary object in the room. He didn't focus on her any more. The only thing he was focusing on now was purging in his catharsis, releasing all of the emotions he had never confided to anyone. At some point he looked up at her, all the despair and reluctance clearly washed away. But it didn't matter because he was cleansing in the lift of a tremendous burden and hoped he had gained forgiveness from his messiahs for any of his past transgressions. Kurloz then bounced one of his legs and stared back at the floor, deep in thought about what he wanted to say next. She fidgeted with the edges of her sweater and even took time to blow her nose before he stilled his leg and started again.

"I care about my brother. I would lay my very _life_ on the line for him and he knows this. I believe in our messiahs for him and I accepted his new culture partly for him just so I could get closer. And even then, there's still some shit that gets on my nerves just like there is about being a Juggalo. Yeah, we listen to violent rap, and try to protect our women and have a good time when we can but as much as you want to like a motherfucker, you can't like everything. Sometimes, you have to stop and think: 'Am I actually that comfortable with the person I care about doing drugs or gambling their money away or smoking when they know they're carrying a baby or even throwing their entire life away?' As nice and compassionate as I am, I will knock every sense into that boy until he gets that I don't want him to lead the exact life I have. And yeah, I'm selling weed and I have a less than ideal job but goddammit I've been trying for a very, very long time…

…At the end of the day, I know this paint won't get me a six figure job but at least I know who I am and what I want to do and will have motherfuckin' fun doing it. I'm just trying to live like everyone else is. I'm healthy, so is he, we got a home, we got food and we got what most don't really have right now. And I think I'll be alright with that. What I _won't _be alright with and why I had to tell you this incredibly huge amount of shit for is the fact that I didn't try to make this work out with you. But I had to tell you the whole cluster-fuck of my past to do it, to get you to understand that love is still a foreign concept to me. I still don't understand it. I don't even like looking at my face anymore. I don't like what I see because all I'm reminded of is an empty man with nowhere to go and nothing to do with life. But when it's on, I actually start to feel like I can accept myself, you know? So, no, Meulin-"

Kurloz looked straight into her eyes, seeing the beauty of her breakdown unfold. He knew it was too much at one time and it was starting to take its toll.

"-I can't tell you what you want to hear right now. That expression holds no weight for me. In fact, it's a little more of a negative connotation and yes I do like big words so shut up."

She giggled like he thought she would, diminishing the gloss in her eyes. He returned the sentiment with a small grin, leaned in and put a soothing hand behind her back.

"I can't guarantee anything. It might take some time, maybe even weeks or months or longer, I don't know. This shit I got here is marrow deep. This is how I've lived my life and this is the only way I know how to cope and survive. This is me. I'm a Juggalo, I have a brother who murdered his parents, I do illegal shit, I do dumb shit and I have terrible but likable friends. But you know what, I know something else for certain and that's the fact that I don't feel worthy enough for you."

He felt the small hiccup she blocked in her stomach, tears brimming within her eyelids.

"I thought about it all day; is it even worth it, does it matter, what gears will I set into motion? I thought about all the consequences getting you involved with me now and you know what, I didn't give a shit. Whether I acknowledged it or not, my mind made that decision a long time ago and it took me here to realize it. Amazing what your body parts will do behind your back. Sometimes, I think you could be better off with someone else just because I'm not much. I can't even tell you three simple words, the most important words in all of existence and I can't bring myself to do it. I can't. I'm sorry. I really am, for everything. I can't take it back but I can tell you why I can't. I don't know. Don't you think that maybe you'd be better off without me?"

Meulin practically teared open her lower lip with her teeth, tender emotions on the very edge. She grimaced in pain, shut her eyes and let the tears fall freely off of her face. Her breath hitched as if she tried to say something but nothing came out. He saw it written all over her face. It was all too much and it was too overwhelming. It wasn't his fault. She was dealing with so much more than a man with simple problems and she wasn't prepared for any of it. He could see the need to let out all the sorrow and she did just that. His lover looked like a baby without her mother, face scrunched and muscles strained all over her face. It didn't help that she was already sick so snot slowly trickled down her nose. Her bangs stuck to her forehead and without warning she had opened her mouth and bellowed out a raspy wail.

And that was it. He had broken her.

Meulin was an absolute mess. Her back hunched and her face gradually lowered towards her lap, sniffing and trying to breathe properly but he could see that undying, twisted pain collide inside and suddenly her back arched, her arms raised, her hands clutched air beside her and her body spasmed.

She cried enormously, like a small child.

"Oh, fuck…I'm…I'm sorry!"

The cry was worse than anything he could have possibly imagined coming out of her. It was filled with heartache and suffering and _empathy. _She finally understood him and was conflicted with the feeling of liberation and immense sadness.

"Please stop!"

Small streaks of mascara ran down her cheeks, obstructing her vision. Words were of no use and he bit the edge of his tongue, strained expression on his face. He didn't cry about his life anymore as he's done enough but seeing her was slowly betraying those convictions. All he could do was take hold of her head in one of his hands, press it in the crook of his neck, soothe her back with the other and whisper small nothings he knew she could never hear. Meulin quivered violently in his arms, rapidly dug her nails into the back of his shirt and screamed at the top of her lungs. Kurloz bit his tongue so hard, it drew blood. He hissed and cursed to himself at the immense pain all over his body. The grip around her tightened while silent tears streamed down his face, not caring about his past or who felt sorry for him or what he deserved.

Kurloz just wanted Meulin to stop. That's all he prayed for.

"Please, sweetheart…It's okay…It will all be okay, baby…"

She sniffed, sighed and moaned in distress. Her back twitched and her sharp nails scraped against his shirt. She uttered words which weren't decipherable and after a while of sobbing she became silent. He held her, neither saying a word for a long time. His hands constantly threaded in her hair and he could taste the sharp iron in his mouth. She coughed hard and he could feel the build-up in her chest. With face now streaked with tear stains and half of it covered in stringy tresses, he tried to gingerly push her off with his hands on her shoulders but she wouldn't have it. Her nails dug deeper, almost puncturing his skin. After a few more minutes with him still soothing her back she gently pried herself off; the light mascara smudged so she couldn't properly see as she fluttered her eyelashes in pain. Her eyes turned bloodshot, her button nose was red and smothered with snot and there were tears streaks all over her puffy cheeks. A stray string of snot stuck from her nose to his shirt and she waved it off.

"Eww!"

Kurloz laughed. Even in their type of situation, she found some way to lighten the mood. He pulled a few tissues from the packet on her lap and wiped her blinking eyes, then her nose and finally her face. She fluttered her eyes again and was able to see the cheeky yet exhausted expression he put on.

"I'm going upstairs to get you some medicine, okay? You still can't see me, can you?"

Meulin only shrugged her shoulders. He smiled and lifted her body up with his arms, standing and turning around so that he could place her on the cream bedspread and let her rest on one of the baby blue pillows. With a kiss on her forehead and a soothing word he walked over to his dresser and opened the second drawer, pulling out a deep red short-sleeve to change in the bathroom. Once that was done he headed upstairs to find Vitamin C tablets and an alternative bottle of Nyquil inside a stray cabinet in the kitchen. He walked back to the edge of the stairs and he would have made his way down…

…If not for his brother hastily heading out of his bedroom and shoving his arms into his indigo winter coat.

"Gamzee, when did you get in…?"

Gamzee didn't slow his pace, only glared up at him with his own bloodshot eyes.

"Forgot somethin'"

Kurloz turned his body to stare at him slip on his violet sneakers, check fiercely for his keys and slam the door shut behind him. He would have gone after him, or maybe yelled from the doorstep but he had no choice but to shrug it off for now, a bigger priority ahead. So he jogged down his wooden steps and headed into the bathroom once again to wet a lavender washcloth.

When he did go back into his room, he did not expect a sight more amusing than what he beheld.

Meulin was not on top of the sheets, rather, beneath them in the center of his bed. Her body was curled so it shaped to look like a tiny mound. He didn't know why it was comical but it seemed so much like her to do such a thing that he couldn't help but find it endearing. Kurloz moved across the carpet to put down the medicine bottles on his work desk, moved one wooden chair a good distance in front of the bed, sat down with washcloth still in hand and mildly kicked the bed for her attention.

The second she pulled the sheets over her so that only her poor, swollen little face peeked through he cracked a grin.

"Baby, please stop being so motherfuckin' adorable and come out so I can clean your face."

"No!"

She forced the sheets back down so they flopped on the edge, safely covered again. Kurloz covered his eyes and chortled harshly, completely tickled by Meulin and her safety mound. It was like he told his only child that Santa Claus wasn't real and now she didn't even want to look at him. At last, he recovered with a lighter mood, stood up and lifted the covers only to see her curled up in his direction with hands huddled on her chest and legs bent to her stomach. He sat down, letting the covers lie on his tufts of curls, leaned over and began to caress her cheeks with the washcloth.

"…You know, It's not that big of a deal sweetheart."

"YES IT IS! I was actually really upset about the whole thing and now I just feel silly because you had a really good reason for everything and now it hurts because you actually did care about me."

"Still do."

She puffed her cheeks and he wiped off her nose affectionately.

"I'm sorry, Kit."

"No, _I'm _sorry..."

He smiled and removed the cloth to kiss one of her cheeks.

"Please let me help you. You look miserable and I promise when I'm done we can lie on the bed and watch a marathon of Doctor Who like old times."

"…"

"C'mon, baby."

"…Okay."

She crawled inside the sheets, emerged by the pillows where he finished off her face and handed her the options of medicine. The dissolvable vitamins were chosen, as expected and he went back upstairs to put the Nyquil away and fetch a cool bottle of water. When it was all said and done, he changed into sweat pants and she volunteered to wear one of his oversized shirts. He settled for the black one with the large skull in front. With shoes beside the bed and computer on his lap, they lied together, safely tucked within the blue sheets and cream blanket. She downed half of her water before he examined her face and saw that her sclera was brightening to a light pink but her eyes were still puffy. The cry had not been an attractive one but he would always think of her magnanimity.

He pushed some hairs away from her forehead and he finally saw a smile become visible.

"You feel better?"

"I think so. Are we eating after this?"

"Yeah but you have to wait fifteen minutes because you chose the vitamins."

"Aww."

"I know, I know. You excited for season three, though?"

"My day can't get any worse so I guess I am."

He chuckled, kissed her forehead and hoped some good old time lord action would dispel the rest of her unhappiness. He wrapped an arm around her, she laying her head on his side and placing an arm around his waist. A few minutes into the first episode he began to hear a familiar sob and looked down in worry.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"Where is Rose?!"

"Oh! Uh…"

_Oh fuck. _

Meulin looked up at him, sniffed and fake-wailed.

"I don't like this show any_mooore_!"

Kurloz couldn't help but cover his face with his free hand as best he could, poorly concealing the amused grin clearly plastered on his face and quelling the small chuckles that wanted to arise. Meulin only whined through the entire opening sequence.

It would be a long marathon to remember.

* * *

At the end of the day, Meulin felt better.

Through half of their marathon, she took back her previous words and mostly expressed her deep fondness over some character named 'Martha'. In-between that, Kurloz had baked pre-fried fish sticks with macaroni and cheese, which she gobbled up with joy, but it still wasn't enough for her to completely recover from the intense burst of emotions she previously unleashed. So, while the evening stars integrated the sky, they decided to finish another time and talked about small matters instead, like his Easter work and her science project. The stiff topic of their week was brought up at some point. He confessed that he was stressed the whole week and smoked more than usual. She admitted to a few shed tears, the cuddle of his cat doll, getting sick from school and watching Vietnamese soap operas to pass the time with a tub of rocky road.

After another vitamin pill was taken, she requested to go home not at the expense of their day but to prepare for school and go to bed early. He understood, it still being a work week and they frazzled from numerous sources. In truth, she wanted to be alone for a while to think things over. Once he dropped her off they shared light kisses and promised to meet somewhere in the weekend like they usually did, not bothering to care whether Gamzee was home or not. Mog was fed before she shed most of her clothes and was at peace within a hot tub full of water and lavender bath salts. She scrubbed, washed and drained her untimely sickness. The heat eased her muscles while the smell calmed her mind and briefly distracted her for the time being.

It wasn't that she didn't want to think about the information given to her, it was just that after all that time, it was still overwhelming.

After Meulin dried off, cleaned the tub, brushed her teeth and set up for school, she settled into her own warm sheets with tissue box on her nightstand and let her mind wander back to the moments only hours ago. Everything clicked and made sense in hindsight. His actions had a direct purpose and could be traced back to his adolescence. She knew any animosity held for him had perished but it was replaced with a deep anxiety for what was now at stake. Kurloz had brought to light very critical and sensitive knowledge and now the importance to apply it was the only thought that invaded her peace. There was a time where she would have backed out from such an uncompromising duty and settled for a simple high school romance, with no heavy encumbrances, just nervous eye shifts and piles of sweat. But she grew in ways that were extraordinary and it was all because of Kurloz. So she would help, step by step, for him to do the same.

In her heart, she urged to shower him with the utmost praise, admiration and love. But whenever she imagined doing it in real life a throbbing ache would make her stomach tighten. That type of innocent doting was not the answer and if she really wanted to sail their relationship in harmonious waters she needed to truly think about what her love required the most. Was it more time between them, a few trinkets of her appreciation and fondness, or perhaps exploring the idea of traditional acts within a relationship? There was dinner and a movie, a walk in the park, a drive to the beach or even something as simple as a night out in a restaurant. All stereotypical, yes, but it was appropriate for a smooth transition into romantic bonding, especially since he wasn't all that experienced with it.

And neither was she. The situation couldn't be any more magnificent, or so she hoped.

Thursday came and went, while on Friday, she finally spent time with her favored male friend, Horuss. They went out for gelato and walked across unfamiliar boulevards. Even though it was still nippy, she appreciated the cool treat while winter tried to keep its grasp on the world. It was a while since she inquired about the week she couldn't get a hold of him and he brushed it off with being busy assembling 'hoof-beasts' without distractions and apologized for it.

Meulin held his 'hoof' while they sat outside an Italian restaurant, looked up and asked for his advice.

"Horuss, you know I'm really good with relationships right?"

He stopped eating his mixed berry treat from a white, plastic spoon and lowered it on the small cup.

"Of course."

"And you know that sometimes I can't even apply it to my own?"

"I'm well aware of the rather sympathetic irony."

She snorted and squeezed his 'hoof'.

"Well, I'd like to ask you a question."

"Go right ahead."

"Horuss…what do you do when you love someone a lot and you really want to express it in a simple way as to not push any sort of boundaries?"

Horuss looked deep in thought while she licked pineapple off her spoon.

"Can I receive more detail?"

"Sure! I know you won't tell anybody else about this but what if they've had problems in the past that caused them to think of love as a 'foreign concept'?"

Now he put a 'hoof' under his chin.

"Hmm…I can tell you that when I'm with Rufioh, he sometimes gets finicky with me just because of our differences in interests and I try my best to express my adoration for his in words so that he has no choice but to feel better in comparison."

"Huh?"

"Maybe that's not the right example. What I mean to say is, if anyone feels that love is a 'foreign concept' to them then, in my own quick analysis, they simply need to be immersed more in the phrase by people they care about and whom care about them."

Of course, it was so simple! Meulin couldn't keep her jaw closed at the recommendation. There wasn't a need for trinkets and dinners and movies, although it could be a nice cherry on top of the sweet affection. All that was really needed was for her to simply say how much she loves Kurloz. The expression was still new to her as it was to him.

"Does that help you?"

"You know what? Sometimes, you are just too perf!"

"Yes, you've told me boundless times and I've been flattered at each. Thank you. You should eat your gelato before it melts!"

"Hey! It won't melt. It's in the sixties today, isn't it?"

"By the turtle rate you're going, you could give it enough time to be in the seventies."

She blew raspberries and he only smiled before they decided to continue walking around the blocks of their neighborhood. They enjoyed each other's company and reminisced at fond memories before Horuss escorted her home in the evening and drove off in his navy pick-up truck, back to his apartment, far away.

That evening, having a grand and joyous sense of determination, Meulin asked Kurloz if she could come over on Saturday and he mirthfully obliged, asking in return what she would like for dinner. She said he didn't have to cook and he insisted, typing that any good Midwestern meal of his would whip her right back into health. So she said to surprise her and they committed for her to come around noon for lunch.

Meulin laid out all her clothes, folded them on top of her own drawing desk, stepped downstairs to play with Mog via feathers on hooks and fed her. Afterwards, she brushed her teeth, washed her face, set her alarm, wiggled into her favorite red-violet pajamas and cuddled her green cat plush in bed.

That night, she dreamed of his smile and the day she could safely mend his soul.

* * *

Meulin's zealous attitude led her, once again, back to the Makara home.

She admired the exquisite beauty of the twelve o' clock weather. It lightly drizzled on the walk to his home, she carrying an umbrella and wearing only a peach cat sweater under a puffy black jacket with green faux-fur on the edges of the hood, a coal black skirt, white stockings, matching shiny, ink-like dress shoes, ears and tail. The overcast was mixed with shades of rain-filled clouds and sprinkled blue sky. It was windy and cool and as soon as she made the hike up the hill, the stone steps and stood on the white-boarded porch she could see why. The weather beyond the left of his home reflected more of a scattered, sunny afternoon. The orb of light would peek through the changing masses of fluff above and contrasted with the cool blue chroma.

It was a mixture of equal chance, a rare glimpse of separate, atmospheric conditions working together.

She shook her umbrella until all that remained was small beads of water, clutched one strap of her pink backpack and gazed back to the entrance at hand. The fist that held her umbrella lifted and knocked twice, she waiting for only a moment. As soon as a thin strip of amber light entered her vision she sneezed and became light-headed.

"I heard that."

Meulin fluttered her eyes and looked up at her paramour as he sported a gentle smile.

"Sorry. You looked down right when I said 'I heard that' but,-…Yeah, it don't matter."

Kurloz leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth. It tugged into a jolly grin and he moved to the side and let her through. The weather from outside changed the lighting in the home, saturating a golden brown ambiance from the windows. As soon as she stepped through, her nose immediately filled with an enchanting smell of boiled vegetables and meat.

"Wow! What are you making?"

Limber fingers obtained the rain's shelter from her hand and slid her backpack down her arms while she zipped down her jacket, already warmed by the temperature. They both hung them on the free standing coat rack and she was suddenly distracted by his hasty movements toward the kitchen. She could now see that he wore a loose, green tee shirt, baggy grey capris and black converse with his grey socks hiked up halfway to his calves. He opened the lid to a good-sized metal pot on the stove and picked up a wooden spoon beside it. It reminded her of the many spoons at home, untouched for months. Deciding not to pester the chef, Meulin sauntered over to the guest chair at the dining table, sat and looked at scattered envelopes with crinkled letters from bill collectors.

It didn't take long before he came around with a green bowl filled with collard greens and ham slices with chopped green onions. She elatedly hunched her shoulders at the sight on her dining mat and grinned up at him.

"This looks amazing!"

"Girl, you don't leave where I'm from without knowing how to throw down on some greens. It's just what it motherfuckin' is!"

She cooed as he strolled back around only to pick up a stray cigarette she now noticed was perched on an ash tray on top the elevated countertop. He put it in the corner of his mouth and turned away, most likely fixing his own bowl. As soon as he came back around, sat down and put it on the dinner mat with the familiar glass ash tray, Meulin plucked the tobacco stick from his lips and pouted.

"Oh, my bad."

Kurloz gave her a lopsided grin, snatched the cigarette back and eradicated the fumes.

"Well, don't keep a ninja hangin'!"

She brought her attention back to the home made delicacy, picked up an already laid out fork on the mat and poked some rich green, loose leaves with a piece of white meat. The taste sent her into a homemade nirvana while the warm juices dribbled down her chin. She hummed at his delight and a sniffle escaped from her nose.

"Don't do that."

"'Can't help it."

Lunch was domestic and sweet. She ran to grab a tiny tissue box from her backpack as soon as her nose ran from the steam while he poured glasses of water in the kitchen as an afterthought. They conversed and laughed and teased and it seemed like a normal lunch date. She almost considered it one but thought it wouldn't be fair since he wouldn't have been aware.

So she kept the happy thought her own little secret.

After the food was long gone, he washed dishes while she politely sat on the couch and flipped through channels in wait, wondering what shows were worth putting on captions for. Within a few minutes, Kurloz came back and she bounced to her feet, meeting him beside the loveseat and embracing his waist.

"Thank you again! I feel much better already."

He returned the gesture and chuckled when she began to purr in the back of her throat.

"You're welcome, kit."

They stood with bodies swaying in sync, she staring deep into his cosmetic darkened eyes. Their shape and loveliness were still appreciated even with the accentuations around it and she adored the way they lit up whenever they saw her content. His lips suddenly moved.

"What you thinking 'bout?"

She gave him a gentle smile.

"Just how much I love you."

His lips returned to its straight edged appearance with face relaxed and eyes bored into hers, an unassuming blankness starting to make her countenance appear neutral. She looked all around the familiar curves and lack of chroma on his face for some subtle trace of acknowledgement but her gaze always felt compelled to regard the dynamic atmosphere inside his orbs. Her chest cavity expanded and crushed onto his, synchronizing their rises and falls with steady heartbeats. A crisp, biting chill brushed against her skin and made her claw his back in desperation.

What was happening?

The chill only added to the unexpected likeness of white that illustrated in her mind's eye. The deep canvas of ivory stretched endlessly below a blended sky of soot and azure. There were no flakes of ice to be found, all of them fallen from the far reaches of faint phosphorescence. And in the presence of nothingness did she tenderly spot a bud from a tall flower, its spiraling, lime leaves shiny and pure as ivy. It beckoned a grave silence to her senses and a release of breath in anticipation.

Kurloz let go of her waist to grip her upper arms with his hands. She felt smoothness from the leaves that caressed her with its thumbs and saw the parting of his lips that revealed in her trance the blooming of a single, red-violet globe amaranth.

It was breathtaking. The sharp, curved pattern of its leaves and the intensity of its color almost made her stretch an arm to reach out and cup it on her fingertips. She was so caught up in its elegance that she didn't notice her lover bend down and close his eyes, abruptly removing the image in her mind and replacing it with the feel of his lips on hers.

Even through the paint, the kiss was as soft as its petals and the feeling transcended to thoughts of new, growth and freshness. It was a kiss unlike no other. The roundness of her cheeks burned and tingled from the brewing pit in her stomach. Her eyelids filled with flashes of cream violets and soft lights, blended and zoomed out until only shapes and colors remained in its simplicity. The hold around his waist was the only anchor that prevented her from submersing in its fantasy.

Kurloz pressed deeper; Meulin inhaled the ensnaring scent of spearmint and the tartness of its herb with the sense of its crumbling sheets of white.

When he removed his lips, so did the tangibility of his medium. He slid his hands down and moved them away which left emptiness in its place. She batted her eyes open to see a hint of humility on his face.

The illusion was gone and only the clarity of his presence remained.

"…You wanna take a nap?"

She raised and lowered her head, speechless from the dreamy phenomenon. He leaned to his right, took possession of the violet throw on top of the cushion, moved over to sit on the edge of the couch, forced his shoes off with his feet and waited for her to join. Meulin just stood above him, still unsure of what took place.

The third time she uttered _that expression_ was nothing short of stunning.

They both napped together for hours. Meulin snuggled on top of Kurloz's frame, head barely in view under the warm polyester with pointed candy corn ears sticking out. Her body warmth alone kept him satisfied under the conditions of the weather and the automatic heat that turned off. With a sharp inhale to her nose, Meulin lifted her head and allowed her sight to adjust, only to see that Kurloz's own head was lifted and was captivated by the rain on his window.

They said nothing for a time. She lifted one arm to twist the curls of his hair with her index finger and he stayed lost in thought.

"Kurloz?"

He yawned and looked down to her.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me why you don't like your face."

He gazed with little emotion and then looked back up to the integrated, watery mess on the glass. The drips made reflected flashes of light on the candle's glass on top of the windowsill. She lifted her torso up with her arms so that she could read his lips while he slithered his hands around her waist.

"…It reminds me of a lot of shit I didn't like about myself; my past, my broken obligations to my brother, my unstable childhood, all that. I was still a youth in my mind when I became a Juggalo and began to use the paint as a 'mask'. It was just something that comforted me, and still does. I didn't deal with shit too well back then and it's still hard for me to deal with some of it. Whenever I get the chance to actually remove it and stare into my face I just feel…empty. Or maybe filled with darkness, I don't know which one I hate more."

She sniffed from her fading sickness, laid her chin on his shoulder and played with a stray curl behind his ear.

"I still think you're beautiful."

He tilted his head away but she could see the lift in his cheek that implied a soft smile. The light made the flush on the tip of his ear prominent. It was a soft, muddy red and she couldn't help but indulge in his modesty before kissing it.

She barely pulled away and her chest burned with a warm ambition.

"I love you."

The breath from her lips was so gentle she hindered the thought of its actuality. But the warm hands on her back crossed over and squeezed her closer before he leaned in so he could deliver the same physical stroke of skin against her neck.

Her eyes shut and her lips parted. Air violated her lungs and nearly made her weep at the image before her eyelids. Sprouts of globe amaranths filed systematically in a single column, joined with its archetype in the infinite vast of milky frost. The navy sky lightened into a Maya blue, reflecting its powdery complexion and from beyond a dash of emerald and a hint of gold.

His arms moved away for his hands to firmly grip the sides of her waist. A shaky sigh left her lips at the tender rise of his chest and the vulnerable emotions within that surrounded her entity and transformed her reverie. A seemingly glimmer of hope that wanted to shine in the distance slowly blended into the thin moat of water that circled the very edge of his season. Her hands scrambled to clutch his shoulders, the visual replica of his actions too overwhelming for her very eyes.

"Kur...loz…!"

He was aware of the void of tone in her voice but his grip never lessened and his lips never stirred. He kept her there while her senses drowned in his waters and shook with the smoldering bond of his passion.

One day, he would say it, she was sure of it. But for now, these actions would be more than enough.

* * *

The righteous Mage of Heart effectively understood the power of her words.

It was a particularly bright evening on a Saturday. Meulin lied on her stomach on top of her lily pad comforter, faced her laptop and tapped away to her mother on Bubblr. Her legs, covered with black leggings swayed back and forth along with her flower print socks. In a fit of nervousness, she tugged at the puffy sleeves of her limp, yellow sweater and bit by bit confessed her affair with the older Juggalo. Her mother naturally became concerned, especially since if said older Juggalo ever 'broke in and stole everything inside' she wouldn't be able to hear a sound. Meulin 'lol'd that comment off and placated her mother's quick passing judgments with the assurance she knew him since September and that her friends knew him for years more.

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:27 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: Oh, okay! Well, they must have been a great influence then. ;D

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:27 PM] MEUMEU to MOMMY DEAREST: (=^・^=) Somewhat!

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:27 PM] MEUMEU to MOMMY DEAREST: (=｀ω'=) T33 h33!

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:28 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: Don't be shy then!

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:28 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: Tell me everything. Who's this mystery man I'll have to give a stern talking to when I come back home?

Meulin snickered. Mother wouldn't be back until May, a month shy of her high school graduation in late June. She wondered if she should explain what happened last Sunday. Her body clock chimed early that morning so instead of staying in bed, she showered, dressed and in a friendly albeit impulsive move, pounced on Kurloz's frame in bed. She giggled at his unexpected crankiness and whined that the weather was perfect for exposing light on their poor, sheltered skin.

She wasn't prepared to be chased all around the house in an attempted tickle-fest and was playfully warned not to disturb his sleep unless she wanted to face the 'consequences', that being laughter. Eventually he made breakfast and accompanied her outside where they walked together for the first time. She pointed out the small berries on the trees that were ripe for eating and idly sat on the swings in Beforus Park, enjoying the feel of the midday sun.

Or maybe it should be the following Monday when she came over to Aranea's apartment and enjoyed mouth-dropping on birthday plans for Meenah with Horuss and Latula. The Pisces was, of course, present and was excited to phone in all her 'fronds', giving each of them personal invitations to her house party which wouldn't be until next week.

Meenah, in-between calls, took a swig of water from a plastic bottle just when Meulin replied to an innocent question regarding her weekend activities.

"EEEE! It was so much FUN! I hung out with Kurzorz fur the most part and can you believe we actually went to the movies fur the first time!?"

Said water was spat out all across the carpet, lickety-split and she squeezed every bit of 'glorious deets' out of the poor cat girl. She and Kurloz did plan to find some sort of movies to watch in the living room but since none were coming on, she had complained in jest. Little did she know that the persuasion from him to hop in his car and drive around until they reached the mall made her realize that he took it seriously. He had pulled an impromptu theater date and she got to choose, so she picked a now regrettable romantic comedy. Meulin Leijon, self-proclaimed romance extraordinaire wasn't even compelled to watch the two, goofy main characters sing their way together but it didn't spoil Kurloz's mood of throwing popcorn kernels and snickering in the dark at the ridiculous plot. He turned it into a good time and they both laughed about it later, hoping to plan their movies better next time.

Horuss approved at the small tale and lifted his previous sentiment of him. The 'high bloods' gawked at Meulin like she fell from a crack in the sky. Latula only high-fived in celebration, which her poor hand still welted from. It was one of the hardest slaps she's experienced in her life.

Or _maybe _it should be Thursday when he had actually graced all of them, plus Horuss with his grand presence? Now that was a day to mark down in electrifying frond-ship _history. _

_Around four fifty in the evening, Meenah Peixes made the grave mistake of running her big mouth. _

_Meulin went over to Kurloz's home directly after school because Meenah wanted to gather her closest 'fronds' together to discuss evening 'shellibration' presents. Since her birthday was on a weekday, she was courteous to understand not everyone could get hammered and skip work so any contribution to her cause was to be appreciated. With lots of kisses and even more persuasion, Meulin convinced her hard-working promotion manager who was glued to the laptop that taking the rest of the day off would not only relax his mind and inspire him to create with more clarity but he would be able to hang out with everyone in one place at the will of their mutual friend._

_Kurloz, at the last minute, decided that it was a good idea and offered to drive them over to the open-couple's home. _

_It was an odd star polygon shape they made around the small, wooden table but they did what they could for lip-reading sake. Aranea sat behind the television, followed by Meenah, then Horuss who flipped through channels and waited for the five o' clock news, then came Meulin and finally Kurloz. _

_Meulin barely paid any attention to her paramour as she immersed herself in borderline taboo conversation that Kurloz deemed 'inappropriate' after they left. The Pisces's urban lingo combined with scandalous memories made her hold her hand on her lips. _

"…_I bait the eel didn't tail you aboat the time we went to Club Amalgam, sat on couches, got drunk and did nofin but stare at booty the entire time. Oh, I learned a few preferences that day." _

"_Really!?"_

"_Oh yes, honey. Buoy gave the phrase 'run game but don't speak' a whole new meanin. I remember his bro told me that one day and shore enough I had to learn that the hard way. I don't know why ass is common ground for us, but it just is." _

"'_Cause a certain water bitch wouldn't get off my motherfuckin' jock…" _

_Aranea had to bat her eyes multiple times, not exactly comprehending what she heard. It sounded like mutter in the room, but it couldn't have been. Horuss must be testing some sort of voice modifying device. Sure enough, his goggles were glued to the television. _

_She stared at Meulin for some sort of confirmation but quickly remembered that she wasn't paying anyone else a lick of attention. So she brushed it off and looked back to Meenah-_

"_You wanna run that by me again, juggahoe?" _

_Meenah's lips stiffened. Her arms were folded and eyes were slit at the man who did the same and rolled his eyes. _

"_You heard me, hood rat. You thought you were doing me such a got-damn fantastic favor of bringing me all those bad bitches when I was doin' just fine all on my own. And then when you knew I was fuckin' 'em, it was like I owed you some sort of big debt or favor in return. Then, when I didn't give you what you wanted, you turned right back around and snagged them the hell away. Now what kind of motherfuckin' game is that?" _

_The poor cerulean fanatic eye's widened, looking straight at Meulin to which she stared in the same manner. As soon as they wordlessly reassured themselves that they weren't bat shit insane, they fixed their gazes back to the abnormally calm party 'gill'. _

"_Makara, if yo 'silent game' was half as good as yo **dick** game, you might have kept them all. Don't blame me just cause I changed my dam mind! And how is gettin some smoke and drank unreasonable requests? Cod, this goes right back to your intolerable big brother complex! I even offered to PAY you to get it for me but oh no, keep yourshelf healthy and sober to make it through the school days says the basshole who snuck me in the first shuckin place! You'll never change, will you!?" _

"_Bitch, I did that shit out of the kindness of my heart and you STILL the ungrateful little snob I semi-raised." _

"_Hey, FUCK YOU okay!? You reely want to know why I did you like that!?"_

"_Yes, yes I would like to know why you did me like that!" _

_Meenah paused. The silence in the room couldn't be more obvious in Meulin's head. Aranea and even Horuss at least had the weekly weather to alleviate the focused tension. _

_The indignant teen stared him down and up, smirked and replied._

"…_cause I could." _

_Kurloz stroked the top of his molars with his tongue. _

"_You an asshole."_

"_No duh! You know these juicy, soft and shrimply irresistible lips of mine? Yeah, they were usually the reason why they chose me over you. Sorry, mime-face."_

"_You ain't sorry. In fact, I'm sure that was the case when that Puerto Rican puked twice on your favorite gold boots while I ran off with the crazy fine Venezuelan." _

"_That's cause you were pumpin drinks inside her stomach-" _

_Meenah slapped the table with flat hands. _

"_-BEHIND MY BACK!"_

_Kurloz imitated her gesture. _

"_BECAUSE YOU DESERVED THAT SHIT!"_

"_NO I DIDN'T"_

"_YES YO ASS DID!" _

"_Um." Aranea tried to interject._

"_NUH-UH!"_

"_YEAH-HUH!"_

"_MY WICKED WORD OVER YOURS!"_

"**_FUCK YOU!" _**

"_Hello!" _

_Both Meenah and Kurloz whipped their head and replied in unison._

"**_WHAT!?" _**

"_Uh…Meenah, you knew he could speak this whole time?" _

"**_YES!" _**

"…_Okay!" _

_Aranea promptly raised herself from her seat, scampered between the huddled soul-mates on the floor and equally watched the pseudo-disaster that took place inside her shared home. Meulin knew Kurloz had a healthy sex life before she came but for it to be put in such a vulgar perspective was a good enough reason why he semi-averted the subject whenever she brought it up._

"_CLAM UP, FOOL! DON'T CARP TO SERK THAT WAY 'FORE I SNAP ON YOU!" _

"_Oh, YOUR Serk, huh?"_

_Meenah cleared her throat, face as red as a canned berry juice. _

"_YES, whale…I um…I HAVE NOFIN TO SAY TO YOU!" _

_Kurloz threw his head back and laughed harshly. Meenah only scrunched her face and folded her arms before a few snickers sneaked from her puffy lips. Aranea stared wide-eyed, the current image of them both shattered while Meulin blinked in dumbfoundment. First, he actually came over, then he actually moved his fucking lips and now he was bantering with someone who seemed like a little sister figure? Horuss didn't quite know how to assess the situation and sweated like a pig in July. Aranea pointed at them and kept gaping while Meenah looked over and smacked her teeth. _

"_Clammit, stop oglin us like we're a pair of hammer fish! Yes, he has a voice. Yes his lips can move, so shuckin what." _

_The rest of the evening consisted of Meenah begrudgingly explaining Kurloz's babysitting days to a very inquisitive Aranea while Kurloz kept quiet the rest of the night and was amused at the awkwardness. Meanwhile, Meulin had to reassure Horuss that this wasn't what he was like when they were together. The night ended on a light note about him most likely bringing in a few bottle for her to sneak at her weekend party beforehand. _

…While all of them were acceptable and rather amusing examples for friends, none were appropriate for the person that was to scrutinize his every move and word later on, so instead Meulin fawned over the stitched gifts, the cooking, the hang outs, show marathons, his humor, charm and loving devotion.

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:29 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: All of that seems very pleasant!

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:29 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: I'm sure he'll be quite the gentleman when I meet him. How old is he?

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:30 PM] MEUMEU to MOMMY DEAREST: (=`ω´=) 25!

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:30 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: …

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:32 PM] MEUMEU to MOMMY DEAREST: (^・o・^) Mommy?

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:32 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: Break it off.

[WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16th, 3:32 PM] MOMMY DEAREST to MEUMEU: Immediately.

Meulin convinced herself that she would warm up to him as soon as they were face to face. Mother was a lot like her; protective of the ones she loved and wanted to experience people before really deducing conclusions. But since she couldn't be there right away to do so, she was just as protective as ever and for good reason. Meulin laughed off the comment anyway and didn't bother to bring him up for the duration of their chat. A good distraction was the mention of Meenah's evening birthday get-together.

It would be especially fun for Meulin since Kurloz agreed to accompany her and because they would hang out later on.

For now, they wrapped up their weekly, long chat with plenty e-hugs, e-kisses, emoticons and goodbyes. She messed around the internet for a while before deciding to take a cat nap. She closed her laptop, sat it neatly on the dresser by her clock and snuggled on top of the sheets, the huge sweater cover enough.

Meulin could feel happiness pollenate in the air as well as something else, something inevitable and even promising.

It was the season of rebirth.

* * *

Meenah Peixes's get-together of tight-net fronds on a Tuesday evening was quite the festive occasion.

The entire house was decorated in pastel streamers, balloons, cutlery and napkins in the kitchen. There was even a homemade, spray-painted, golden tiara with hot-glued craft jewels courtesy of Aranea. Everyone, at some point or another, made it in the collective time they could join. First were Cronus and Kankri, who walked from school to give Meenah her present in the shape of a treasure chest from them both. Inside, were a few unused trinkets from the Greaser's jewelry supply, unneeded to authenticate his modest, middle-class life and two expired coupons to Olive Garden.

It was then that Meenah decided to play the 'Drink a shot every time you get a semi-shitty gift' game.

Aranea sighed and thanked them in her behalf, unable to chastise the birthday gill as she promised earlier in the day to give her leeway to do any selfish thing she pleased. Kankri kept commending them about how humble and trigger-free their festivities were and even she couldn't resist one shot or two if she were to maintain her upbeat attitude around them.

Next were Rufioh, Horuss and miraculously, Damara. Apparently, each of them had patched things up with each other long ago and used that positive attitude to come around in the midst of commemoration. It was somewhat appreciated from both fashionistas but that didn't mean they avoided the kitchen with all their might when the schoolgirl kept offering explicit boob-jobs in her native tongue to the up-and-coming engineer. Horuss could only puzzle at the thick accent the whole time while Rufioh gave Meenah their present of a welded scrap metal whale with a tuxedo and top hat.

Drink a shot every time you get a semi-shitty gift: 2

Porrim came briefly to give her birthday kisses and blessings. After scolding Kankri about not wearing his sweater in such cool weather she gave Meenah a pink, knit sweater in jest…

Drink a shot every time you get a semi-shitty gift: 3

…but then surprised her with mustard-colored, sparkly boots and silver chains on the ankles. They were torn from the box and worn immediately, the birthday gill opting to never take them off even after the weekend club party where more appropriate, adult-themed ceremonies would initiate.

Next were the game bros, Latula and Mituna. They actually brought another un-semi-shitty gift; it was a genuine Nintendo 64 with a couple of popular name brand games for its time. Apparently, both were trying for a few months on eBay to grab it and had success at the last minute.

As soon as Meulin and Kurloz came, however, Mituna had clung to his best friend like there was no tomorrow. Kurloz eagerly returned the physical act of companionship, offering a smoke to ease Mituna's troubled, twitchy mind while Meulin gave her two bottles of New Amsterdam Vodka and a special 24 carat gold chain with a Pisces symbol in the center.

In the end, Aranea made everyone sing happy birthday while she brought out a banana cake with an illustration of Meenah as whale hunter on top of a whale, drawn with chocolate frosting. It was the first time everyone came together and brought with them, even for one day, an impression of togetherness and collective joy. After the cake settled in, the birthday gill got queasy from the forgotten mixture of alcohol.

Drink a shot every time you get a semi-shitty gift: -3

The evening shenanigans ceased and Meenah recovered quickly from her curt sickness. Each person hugged everyone else, said their goodbyes and met with their respective partners outside the home. Kurloz was to drop Meulin off at her apartment before she offered to share an evening inside for once. In the giving spirit, he had allowed himself to venture inside and dropped off his piece of wrapped banana cake along with Meulin's in the fridge. As soon as they both petted a certain fluff ball of joy, the feline enthusiast decided it was finally time for her love to experience her bedroom. They headed upstairs and she was unaware of his silent curiosity once she opened the door and turned on the light.

Her bed was on the opposite wall of the doorway with a huge window in the center. Its lime green drapes were held apart by two cream ribbons, revealing closed blinds. The small desk that held her laptop and clock was beside the cherry wood headboard. The off-white walls contained small doodles of all colors and sizes, from her animal-themed friends to a double-mouthed, white cat that leaped gracefully around like some sort of cave painting. There was a little girl riding on top with short hair which Kurloz assumed was Meulin when she was younger. He glanced to his right to see a matching, cherry wood dresser which also acted for a work desk. It was cluttered with art supplies. High above, was a fabulously large shipping poster. While crudely drawn, up close it was organized with various names, fiction and non-fiction and between each pair of names were hearts, question marks and little spades which indicated 'a sunken ship'.

To him, it was incredibly winsome.

Meulin was beside her dresser drawer and tugged out an extra long, navy tee shirt which she had 'borrowed' from him. In reality, she had slept in it one time in his bed and forgot to bring it back. She didn't bother to go out of her bedroom to change so he decided to sit on her bed, remove his black tennis shoes and lie on the warm bedding. After a moment, she curled beside him and rested her head on his black short sleeve and tangled her bare legs around his purple cargo pants. He massaged her back with one hand behind her back and placed the other behind his head.

At the last minute, she set her alarm so that they could wake from their nap before it became too late in the night. They said little and enjoyed the presence of one another until they fell to a deep slumber at the whim of the sand man above.

* * *

Kurloz Makara was stoic and cemented on top of a never-ending circumference of frozen water particles.

It was dark, he knew that much. There was no life to discern or universe to perceive. The eternal chalk white before him lit up plainly, like it defied all laws of light and reflection; more darkness than light and less light than darkness.

He would have these dreams now and then. Some sort of hardened seat, like the ones under his desk elevated him so he could hunch over and put his elbows on his knees. There was nothing to feel, or hear, or taste or even touch. This reproduction was too recognizable from all the other and seen too many times in various dreams, so there was a happenstance where he could spot some sort of anomaly, like right now.

The column of globe amaranths stood erected on the far horizon of nothing, still and unorthodox.

In his heart, he felt a pressure of uncertainty, a tip in his balance like he was always on the edge of falling off a deep cliff and regaining his balance. The existence of them in his desolate land sparked a feeling of incredulousness inside. He furrowed his brows at them like they were foreign objects to be scrutinized and if taken off his sight for one moment, they could move.

He stared for a long while, them innocuously unaware of their placement like a rift in space or a placement of something that shouldn't be. Afterwards, he began to feel weak and decided that it wasn't worth trying to remove the delusion with his eyes. Both hands pressed and rubbed his bare cheeks, then his forehead and finally his whole face, holding it there while he closed his eyes. It was inconclusive, obscure and no resolution of the symbolism could come of it.

That is, until he removed his hands and slowly opened his eyes again.

_Meulin Leijon. _

It was the first recognizable name that popped into his head and it was the first person in his land that he observed. It wasn't his now astoundingly small island of ivory, or the wooden boat dock she stood on top of that was connected to it. It wasn't the resplendent body of water that made sounds of choppy waves and suddenly smelled of sea spray. It wasn't the prismatic sky, its brilliance resembling that of dawn with blended turquoise, wine and coral with silver lining on the clouds. It certainly wasn't the sudden mildness of frost on his feet and the warmth everywhere else inside his body.

She held her look of tenderness, one he never really saw before, even far away as they were. He observed her outfit and it refreshed his memory back to the very moment in which she graced him with her presence after his birthday. It was the outfit where he regarded her most angelic; A green and white kitten sweater with an ashy, grey skirt and white stocking with green stripes at the top. He never got to see what she wore on her feet and instead of her hair wrapped in blue ribbon, it was replaced with gold and green ribbons in spirals, similar to the ones on his present.

He remembered that nausea, that sense of scattered emotions he couldn't decipher from her that morning but with the neutral, almost ghostly look she gave him now, he could clearly pinpoint one.

And that was determination.

One shoeless, slender foot moved in front of the other in a languid pace, eyes never leaving his face. They stepped on each darkened board of wood, closer and closer until she lifted her leg to step on the bonded frost he was confined to. His lungs filled with air in distress, not wanting her limbs to be encased in coldness but it extraordinarily did no such thing. She seemed to step on top of it as if it were stone and advanced closer like a seraphic figure to his unworthy frame. He didn't question any of it, logic a mere shadow in his mind.

With each step closer and each lift of her frame to the top of the sanctuary, his heart clutched in anxiousness and his thoughts were at a loss for what he should do or say. The feeling of biting glacial cold under his feet was no more and the warmth that pervaded evolved into a burning heat. His back straightened, his breath left his frame…

…And she pounced him.

The action was quite typical, almost comforting, but in this sacred moment it was considered shocking. Her arms encircled his neck and he felt the force of her weight tilt him backwards and send his body in a falling motion. He shut his eyes and braced for the being that would strain him above and the severe feel of soft ice that would numb him below.

Neither came.

He landed with a small 'thud' and it took him a moment to realize that the coolness he felt under his skin was not that of his brisk isle but that of solid, earthly ground. He figured the feather light feeling of her on top of him was a normalcy, considering his dream state, and opened one eye only to see that she was nowhere near his body. But what was, and what surrounded him were tall stalks of globe amaranths in various shades of saturated red-violet. It was just him, the flowers, the sky and the heat that settled into his chest like a bird to a nest.

Kurloz regarded the closeness of the clusters of Gomphrena as still objects of extraneous origin. They still gave him a paralyzing sense of insecurity and unable to handle their mystifying height, he huddled his legs together, pushed his body up with his arms and rose above them.

The metamorphosis of his land was unaltered for now and his source of warmth, blind to reality, unconsciously called to him, turned him around and let him witness the bliss of his lover whirl and prance thoughtfully around his small island of novelty. Unseen creatures step-sided and rolled beneath the stalks of verdure and she hastily bent down to pick one up in her gentle hold.

A stray tabby was put in a cradle position and its salmon pink paws swatted playfully at Meulin's finger when she began to scratch its fuzzy chest. Without looking, she gravitated to beat of his heart; one brown tainted, stocking-covered foot after another. He also regarded the feline's aurora with its perplexing genesis. Meulin looked up to the sky, then back at Kurloz with her virtuous smile.

He could do nothing but stare cautiously in return as she put the youthful creature down on the ground. A hand was placed on his arm, giving it goose bumps as she pulled him down once again on the patch of russet brown soil, she laying on his side with her feather-light touch.

A deep pulse seemed to thump beneath his terrain and it matched his very own. It created a harmony within his warmth, he oblivious to the sheer preposterousness of it. The visible heaven's movements were similar to the northern lights. Its polychrome danced in an endless rhythm of light and alteration.

Meulin's hand stretched above his sight, thin fingers fanned out and moved in a way that resembled finger painting. It swirled and united at her bidding as she waited for the ultimate transformation to commence before her pious devotee.

He could suddenly see her finger point towards a rift in space, stiff from immense energy. His eyes were transfixed on the shimmering incandescence within his pitch dark cosmos, expanding into a rounded shape.

And from within did a righteous blessing emerge from the coils.

His own divine _miracle._

It was a simple sailboat. The two-dimensional design resembled that of a crude drawing made of by a small child. Each pair of Bermuda sails were colored in a deep viridian green while the hull itself a rich lavender. His stomach clenched and his body gave way for a state of deep-rooted catharsis. It was the most whimsical thing Kurloz had ever seen in his entire life. His throat suddenly dried and his right hand scraped deep into the earth beneath. The vigorous, celestial winds expanded the fullness of its model, beginning its cast off below the never-ending depth of moons and stars and crossing over to the now multi-shaded sky of lilacs, plums, indigos and wisterias. And just like that, while it was unhurried and incognizant of its own earth and sea, Kurloz had been hit with everything and nothing all at once. He felt emotions and saw memories that had not entered his conscious in years and he did something he thought he would never do again.

While the white v shape of clouds it left behind was the equivalent of the parting of still waters in the sea and as it ever so slowly diminished above the horizon where there wasn't a single sun to be found, Kurloz opened his mouth but no words ever came out. The tears fell from his eyes, one by one, and formed a renewed sense of youth. They were not out of sadness but of inevitable timing. He chuckled humorlessly as he realized the sequences were united with one another; his deep release and change of nature the undoing of a sun that had never been created in his universe.

Meulin raised herself up with her arms, sat upright and got a better view of the produced vessel that trailed the violet sky in a fixed, linear pace. She breathed in the beauty of reincarnation and turned to her lover, his face obscured by the deep shadows of dusk. She smiled and cupped his now bare face with her hands to which she, for the first time, regarded him with a deep sadness.

"Kurloz…!"

And as he recalled that vast of darkness more than light, as he sat there in his destitute, he saw his amaranths in a different way. They grew not in a light that could be seen by internal stimuli but one that could never be seen within his consciousness. It made miracles, melted a lifetime of nothingness and brought out his medium's transfiguration. It could not be seen because where he looked could not bring it to him.

So instead, she walked to him herself. He now knew why he never saw the sun, because all this time he had her in his arms.

Meulin lied back down again, this time atop his cringing frame, the bridge of her nose forced against the bottom of his chin. She clutched the sides of his shoulders as he brought his own hands to his face; the fears and anxieties, the lies and deceptions, the deep sorrows and deaths melting away like an endless winter. She only smiled and made his pleasant agony worse.

His body writhed from heat and light, blazing from the words he so desperately wanted to hear over and over again for the rest of his life.

'I love you, Kurloz.'

'Kurloz, I love you.'

'I love you...'

'…I love you...'

'…I love you.'

* * *

Meulin opened her eyelids.

Having indulged in a soothing rest, her sight was crystal clear. They observed the glowing series of mahogany and sienna on the bare ceiling that reflected from her transparent lamp shade on the night stand. She was going to turn it off after she got comfortable and maybe that's where she went wrong. It made the white, geometric shade above look more like a molasses crystal.

She sure didn't fall asleep in this position.

Her head turned to the right and squinted at the neon lights on her alarm clock. It was now nine forty eight p.m and the harsh buzz would go off in more or less twelve minutes. One hand reached over and pressed the tiny, black button so it would disable. Not bothering to bring her arm back, she turned the opposite way and faced loops of hair. From the distribution of warm body heat and weight, she could deduce that Kurloz's head lied on her chest, the same way she started to rest earlier. His right arm was tucked at his side while his left straightened out on her stomach and his wrist limped across the edge of the bed. Her legs were bent over his thighs so her toes barely touched the bedding.

There was a faint but steady heartbeat that comforted her side and her right hand began to twist the back of his curls. It somewhat calmed all her wakeful bodily functions but her stomach and when it grumbled from hunger she cringed, not knowing how loud it sounded. It was then decided that heading downstairs for some sort of snack was best.

But before that happened, she idly hoped he was having enjoyable dreams. She slept so good that there was no dream to remember and normally their tossing and turning would prevent her from doing so.

She found some sort of slick way to move his arm, rotate her legs and lift his head so she could settle her feet on the ground, minding the cat bed on the corner. She didn't expect for him to stretch and face the wall with arms folded above his head, never opening his eyes. It was a lovable trait that he didn't like to face the light when he was still tired or there would be no chance of falling asleep again. Without another advance to him, she bent down and put her arm under the transparent lamp shade, twisted the small knob, plunged the room in navy darkness and made her way downstairs with learned sense of touch. Maybe when she came back, he would be under the covers.

A small chill crept up her legs while she descended to the first floor, the natural lighting from the moon outside guiding her way down the lower half of the stairs. When she turned on the kitchen light, she lifted her heels and walked on the balls of the feet, the tiles smooth and frigid in contrast to the soft, beige carpet. Opening the fridge, she found a fresh orange beside some bottled water, grabbed it and headed over to the black stool so she could sit in front of the granite countertop.

Her slender hands got to work, using her sharpened nails to rip off each tiny piece of the outer peel and sprays of juice would fly like a quick water hose. This method was preferred over simply cutting with a knife because she could smell lingers of citrus on her fingertips. When she did peel the last white stem, pulled the fruit open in the center and savored the first bite, Kurloz had emerged from the corner with head low, hand ruffling his hair and eyes on the microwave clock.

Ten o' two p.m.

"Well, good evening sleepy-zorz!"

She put down her orange slice and turned her body so that it faced the weary person that moved closer to her. Kurloz impulsively buried his head between her neck and shoulder while his arms slipped around her upper waist. Meulin didn't bother to ask what the occasion was, only to return the action, close her eyes and cherish the lovely warmth that emanated.

The hug lasted for only a moment before he leaned his neck back, caressing his cheek with her own and locking their lips in a chaste, citrus-tasting kiss. The corners of hers tugged into a smile and hoped the fresh smell of fruit would excite his spirits. There was no vivid depiction of his actions to grace the inside of her lids and only the prickling heat from the now kept his affection continual. After what seemed like a long-standing amount of time, he released the dawdling affection and she beamed up at him while his forehead settled on hers. It was assumed that he was still drowsy from the nap because his eyes were still lidded when a hint of a smile ultimately emerging on his face.

"Come over."

"Huh?"

He grinned at the last-minute attempt to read his lips, leaned back and tried again.

"Come over next weekend."

"Okay!"

She looked over to her right, picked up the still uneaten orange slice and paid him attention once more.

"Be prepared."

She cocked her head, sticking a slice in her mouth and muffling her voice.

"Fur what…?"

All he did was kiss her forehead, pick up the other slice of orange and headed towards her front door.

"Hey!"

Kurloz walked backwards to her amusement and unlocked the door.

"What am I preparing fur? Come back here, silly, don't furget your cake slice!"

"Now you really have to come over. Don't eat it 'neither."

She puffed her cheeks while he tore a slice of orange with his teeth before chewing.

"You owe me an orange slice."

"Aight."

He widened the door before he winked, strayed out of her sight and closed it. Meulin slipped from her warm seat on the stool, tip-toed across the tile and walked normally on the carpet before she locked the plywood door behind him. Knowing him, there would be a text sooner or later between then and when they would meet with more details.

She placed her hand on the golden knob and smiled. Even if his touch did remain for a second the electric feeling still lasted, just like his impeccable kiss.

* * *

The small heartbeat she always felt, in the distance of her mind, pulsed truthfully and with a fierce instinct beyond her bathroom mirror.

Dimly lit bulbs in a single file on top of it, lit the surrounding walls in dark lavenders and indigos, only leaving the rest of the space in a powdery blue-gray and Meulin to be encased in its virgin light. Her right hand spread out on the cool, glass skin of her doppelganger and reminisced dark winter nights and hot summer days. All her past memories traversed her mind like a sweet melody that was consumed by wanderlust. Her perspective changed so much that all the innocence mistakes and uncertainties between could now be seen as mature learning curves.

Everything was now beyond her years but within the looking glass where her twin resided, she knew the same happy-go-lucky cat girl was still there and she had to be for the sake of _honor._

Meulin tilted her head in curiosity, inspected the shimmering, cream eye make-up and peach flavored lip balm that moistened her salmon pink lips. It was put on long after her awaited bath with lamiaceae salt, liquid chamomile soap and red berry shampoo. Her hair expanded from air-drying while she massaged it to an acceptable size and her nude frame still held little beads of stress-relieving water. Her hand moved away from her ghostly reflection and rested beside her.

At a second thought, the hand caressed the small, faded scar beside her curvy hipbone down to her inner thigh. That, along with the many drawings on her walls, the child dolls packed away in various closets, the old VHS tapes of roleplaying and even the loss of her hearing were the only reminders that the haunting creation before her had been alive.

It was still something she wasn't comfortable with, not with friends, not with family, or even her own mother. She just didn't feel worthy to go back and retrospect into her subconscious but if _she_ were here now, looking straight at her in this moment then maybe _she_ would be proud that she had briefly done so.

It was a long battle, the storing and locking away of the deceased, especially since she still felt, in the end, that it was her fault. But maybe that image could see the self-worth in her eyes and the love and acceptance she grew to carry within. Maybe she could understand that it was the influence of one similar to her, one that she vowed to heal and protect with all her might and if they could see the beauty inside themself, it would give her the grand courage to do the same.

And did she feel worthy.

Kurloz Makara had, whether he realized it or not, given her the task of showing him the sliver of love he deserves and she welcomed the task with open arms and strong promises, strong as a chain on a steel link. It was each and every day that she truly discovered her curing abilities and felt important, even vital. The mission was now deep-rooted and could never be dug up again as it already seeped through her earth and nestled safely within her core. There were times when she cried not just for him but for herself because the parallels were just too protrusive. He had someone to live for, to care for, to provide and to strive to be a better person.

She didn't think it would happen to her in the shadows of her secret darkness.

The bathroom and bedroom door was wide open and she stepped through each to look all around the juvenile drawing that was illustrated on her walls. It would be appropriate for her age to paint over them but it told a timeless story, like an old cave painting and only she knew the tale. As much as she blocked it out of her mind, the act of erasing them permanently in the physical world was something she could never bring herself to do and it only confirmed to her family and counselor that she was human and that she felt something between _those events, _even if she did pretend it never happened afterwards.

But it didn't matter. All that mattered now was that she was healing. She was changing and at that time, when there was blood and sweat and broken glass which way, it seemed impossible.

Meulin stood before the laid out clothes on her bedspread, picked up a spray bottle and distributed her favorite lavender and chamomile scent around. She set it back down and slipped on her scarlet panties and matching bra, each with a little pink bow in the center. Then a white, crinkled button-up dress shirt with a green, argyle sweater vest, a tan skirt and bronze tights. She glanced over to her dresser by the closet, walked up and opened the first drawer.

She carefully picked up the small, silver chain with the heart-shaped diamond that loosely hung from it. Her brown-tinted colored nails opened the crab claw and linked it around her neck, adjusting it on her sternum between her white collars.

Mog sauntered inside the doorway, tail swishing in content. Meulin bent down to pick her up when she walked over and sat on the bed. She cooed small phrases of affection and pecked the white furs on her small face before she sat Mog down beside her. The fluffy cat began to lick her fur with her long tongue while Meulin entered her feet inside her newly shined dress shoes and leaned forward to fasten the line of leather over the top. Last, was the black band that donned her homemade candy corn ears and the fuzzy, blue tail. It was just like Kurloz when he changed himself for his brother. She kept her roleplaying habits alive by a rhythmic force, a faint intuition that enforced the adolescent activity to continue.

Meulin hoped that beyond the mirror, Nepeta knew her heart hasn't changed.

She stood, picked up and carefully placed the band atop her bulk of hair, linked her tail onto her skirt and put on her prepped backpack filled with clothes, jacket, drawing materials and other miscellaneous things. Her keys and handheld stayed in her hand and she kissed her beloved pet on top of her head. Kurloz sent her a text around five and asked if she wanted a ride but she declined, wishing to enjoy the evening walk.

The breeze was stale and brisk but it comforted the heat that left her smooth legs. Each step she took over a stray leaf or a broken twig was a step of certainty, of purpose, with stride and a will to live inside a mindset of intrepidity. The conforming machine of society was left behind along with its dusk that glint its last ray of light. It left cool layers of denim, Prussian and ultramarine blues that seemed like it would rise above an abandoned country side. She felt worthy, she felt love and above all she felt the rank of duty that allowed her to course their relationship into the colorful oceans of ardor and blinding, unprecedented euphoria.

She let out a breath from the nippy air and balled her hands into fists. There would be an island waiting for them to discover and that they could call home but little did she know, he already explored it.

* * *

Kurloz sparked one up before Meulin even arrived.

The texts she received minutes before she even arrived in front of his door instructed her to walk inside and turn the second lock behind her. It seemed like an odd request, considering that he always greeted her at the doorway but maybe this was part of the changes she had to 'prepare' for. The rusted knob was chilled inside her grasp as she turned and was faced not by his presence but that of the dimmed kitchen light under the stove vent. She did as instructed, removed her chilly dress shoes from her feet and inhaled the familiar scent of cotton before she headed downstairs.

Flickering lights of deep wines and pale periwinkles were the first thing to catch her eye in the distance. His bedroom door was wide open, letting the colors pave the way down the bottom of the stairs. She had to hold on to the wooden railing as the sheer nylon of her tights made it difficult to step down on the hardwood. As soon as her foot touched concrete she peeked around the doorframe, leaned her body on the right side of the casing and let a small smile grace her lips.

Kurloz moved most of the iridescent candles from the windowsill in the living room and scattered them around his room; most were in a crooked line on the floor and surrounded the side of his black comforter, two were on his nightstand and only one on the corner of the work desk. They all created a harmonious spectrum of ruby, sea blues and nightfall greens around his walls that were vacant of posters.

He sighed, rolls of smoke escaping his lungs and nose as he lied flat on his fresh bedspread. One candle was held high above his head and his right hand rotated it like he inspected a precious, expensive jewel. The left kept his rolled blunt atop the glass ashtray, being mindful of the remains. Her cheeks flushed a gentle vermillion as he wore nothing but the deep mauve boxers on his hips with one leg bent and foot firmly planted on the spread.

Meulin had forgotten all about his text and gathered up the courage to walk towards his frame, not wanting to startle him but he only turned his head and tugged his lips languidly in her company.

Her voice came out soft, admiring the moving candle light around her peripheral.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm on an island."

She chortled and speculated how high he must be to mouth such a statement.

"Really?"

"Yep, see, all this here-"

He guided the hand that held the candle in an arc across his multicolored walls.

"-Is the sky. And I'm…"

He paused, exhaled and looked back at her.

"Sorry, that sounds dumb."

"No, it's okay."

She walked back over to the work desk and sat her backpack away from the forest green candle, removed her feline appendages, took a few steps across the floorboard before she lifted her feet over the uneven row and sat down next to him.

"It's really beautiful."

"Yeah?"

She nodded.

"It's not how I want it to look."

"What do you want it to look like?"

He lowered the vanilla candle so it barely touched his abdomen and trailed his sight all around again.

"It doesn't matter."

Either he was high out of his mind or maybe he was trying to communicate some sort of deep thought. Whatever it was, she couldn't put a finger on it and maybe it would be explained when he sobered up. She carefully captured the small, thick glass from his grip, set it beside two orange candles on the night stand and shifted her body down so that she could lie beside him and perhaps understand what picture he was trying to paint.

A brute reaction seized her heart. It wasn't possible for it to be the ones she's been having, was it…?

She turned her head to find his half-lidded eyes looking dead back, the blunt held in his hand and the end between the edge of his mouth. He held his breath and passed it to her, she demurely pinching it between her forefinger and thumb before mimicking his action. Nothing had been said. They each gratified in the unsteady shine of hues, shortening the joint into a roach. He puffed the last of it, expelled the smoke, laid it on the ashtray and leaned his left arm across her body to put it on top of his polka-dotted analog clock.

Her eyes were closed, mind in a state of meditation. Her soul felt like it soared above the skies and before she could reach the stars she felt the side of his chin lie on her shoulder and his hand caress the right side of her hip. She tried not to show her delight when her dress shirt crinkled underneath her sweater vest. Meulin looked beside her and all he did was smile.

"I had a dream about you."

She raised her plucked brows, lifted her right hand and traced the invisible line between grey and white on his cheek, regressing back to her touchy-feely habits.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you danced on this field and I was lying down and looking up at the sky. I tried to at least recreate what I had seen in my mind but it don't even compare, Kit, it don't compare to what I saw all up in there."

She looked with delight as he stared far off at the wall opposite her.

"What did you see?"

His tongue traced the inside of his cheek, a clear sign of searching to find the right words to say.

"…Miracles."

She grinned and hummed in amusement, trailing the side of his chin with her forefinger while his hand slithered up her skirt to trace the bronze nylon that sheathed her lower body.

"Are you sure this isn't the weed talking?"

"It might be."

"I'm teasing!"

"I know, baby."

Kurloz moved his hand away from her skirt, only to place his limber fingers around her jawline and straighten it so she faced the ceiling again. He leaned himself even further on the side of her body and buried the bridge of his nose on the side of her neck. She giggled and felt his hand go back to her side and the damp curls that now tickled her ear and face. He must have taken a shower not too long ago. Minutes passed, possibly longer and all she knew was that she belonged there, in his bed and under his arms with the constant shiver of her shoulders whenever the heat from his nose would brush her skin. In her mind, the moment would never end and she never wanted it to.

There was the movement of his curls, the press of lips on her earlobe and the mild graze from his incisors. With senses heightened by the 'catnip', her eyes fluttered, slit and let the colors seep through the diagonal cross of her lashes.

His hand flattened on her hip, moved up her waist and back down until it slid to her inner thigh which subconsciously parted. He began to suck on her tender flesh to which she bunched up comforter with her right hand and educed a tiny gasp of surprise. The other hand was trapped below his frame and his nails scraped the sleek fabric that came between her skin and his touch. Each finger fanned out and one by one pushed between her tights and the center of her panties. She shivered when they began to match a ravishingly slow movement created by the tip of his tongue.

Meulin squeaked and spread her thigh so far her lower leg dangled over the edge. Kurloz swiftly moved his head upward to face her, eyes glossed with a deep, unbridled passion. With her tentative senses that felt the attention, she became infected with his lust as soon as her eyelids parted to interpret his words.

"_I want you, baby." _

He never stopped moving his fingers and she moaned quietly, licking the peach flavor off of her lips while her voice became airy and strained with distraction.

"…_Okay._"

He flashed his teeth in a gentle smile before he leaned down and connected their lips together. His tongue traced the bottom of her lip and she parted them out of shock from the tingling, blissful sensation. His expert organ took this opportunity to twirl around hers. Together did their mouths move in practiced unison as he slipped one hand behind her tuft of hair and pushed her head up so he could delve deeper. She whined from the eager fingertips that continued to stroke between her legs. Her breathing became harsh, her heartbeat rapid inside her rib cage and her hands tangled all over his messy curls of hair and felt each one move below her palms and sculpt back to its natural shape.

Her eyelids fluttered from the multitasking and her toes curled at the oozing response that threatened to flow at any moment. He lowered her head and moved his hand so it could prop him up, stopped the movements of his hand and licked the edge of his lips while she watched him gather his thoughts.

"_Damn, you taste good." _

She giggled lightly while her flush deepened to an intense cherry.

"_That's embarrassing." _

He laughed, lowered to her neck and sucked on his favorite place between her neck and shoulder, the very place he put his first mark on her. She lifted her starving hips in a delicate want and felt his hard muscles compared to her malleable curves overlaid with cotton and other fabrics. His hands glided beneath the sides of her dress shirt and pushed her down, she craning her neck with hitched breath and soft moans. Once the sweet torturer was satisfied with the small bruise on her pallor he lifted his torso upright, tugged the edges of her green vest and lifted it up with her raised arms in the process. He carefully tossed it behind him to avoid the risk of its plunge to the floor beside burning candlelight.

His skilled fingers unbuttoned each slit of her long sleeved dress shirt until it exposed her heaving bust and scarlet bra. Her arms moved beside herself and her hands splayed out on the bed to lift herself up, remove and toss the shirt beside her vest and unclasp the hook behind her. He tugged at the center and extended her arms towards him so he could pull off the material while the straps slid down her limbs. His hands gripped her waist and led her back down on the bed as he kissed her sternum, she hissing from the feeling of his torso on top of her exposed breasts. Her hands lifted and grabbed the sides of the pillow beneath her head. He moved back up to stare at her, eyes trailing down, up and all across her nude anatomy. Meulin shyly moved her head to the right and instead focused on the dancing colors. She felt his hand unzip the side of her skirt, tug it down as she courteously lifted her legs and discard it on the growing pile of clothes. His hands executed the same procedure with her tights, fondled the curvature of her hips before each forefinger pulled down the sides. Meulin bit the corner of her lip, knowing she was melting like heated gel.

His limbs inched him back over her frame. His right hand cupped one of her perky breasts, his tongue giving it attention while the other descended her stomach to pet the soft hairs beneath her panties. Normally, she would be self-conscious about her lack of pure femininity, caring enough to only leave that patch of fuzz but in the moment she dared not tread the waters of that though and instead leaned her head forward and whimpered like she wanted to. His mouth moved to the other breast, flicked the nipped until it became hard and sucked on it fiercely.

The teasing fingers pressed between her humid lips and explored her stretched, inner walls with a compassionate rhythm. Her faced twisted in a pleasured anguish and her legs twitched as they subconsciously bent and spread wide open. Her voice cracked under the bliss.

"_Kur-!"_

Meulin couldn't finish. His head moved up and he gazed in a mesmerizing lust. She lazily let go of the hard clutch at the pillow and propped herself up with her forearms. Her breaths came out heavy at the fingers that still pervaded her contracting, soft flesh.

"…_Take them out."_

Still in a stupor, he leisurely removed his hands from her panties. She breathed to calm her body down before pushing his body from between her legs and onto his side. He leaned his upper body weight with one arm and didn't have time to inquire as her hand's hasty movements down his boxers said quite enough. Brave fingers encircled his hard flesh as she pushed herself up with her other arm. Kurloz craned his head back at the sudden arousing movements and she took this time to nip at his exposed skin. She could see his chest expand heavily as he desperately tugged his boxers down with his free hand.

Meulin pinched his neck with her teeth as she stroked him, stunningly enjoying the shift in dynamic. He could only bury his face on the side of her hair and she could feel the long breaths from his lips. The hand on his only clothing gripped her upper arm, stroking it with his thumb as she remembered to start at the base and work her way up. She could see the tiny bruise she left on his luxurious tan and began to lap at it with her flat tongue.

His hand moved from her arm, took hold of her jawline and tilted it upward so he could assault her mouth once more before she squeezed him. He retraced and her eyes opened in time for her to experience the attractive, pseudo-distress on his face and the breath that escaped that she could only assume was a groan.

"_Fuck…!" _

His hand landed on hers and curtly ceased her affections. She watched as the muscles on his face relaxed and his eyes looked into hers while she gazed at his parted lips in caution.

"_On or off?"_

"_What…?"_

Kurloz pointed to his face and referred to his paint. She smiled at him, knowing it was an important decision.

"_I want it on, if you want."_

He returned the warm sentiment, pushed her back down on the bed and kissed her cheek before he pulled up his boxers and made his way towards his dresser. She wiggled her toes and shivered in anticipation, he most likely getting the box she left when they had their first time. After a few moments, he came back and lied atop her, she already noticing the lack of clothing and latex.

He tilted her chin with his hand and gazed straight in her lowered eyes with conviction.

"_It won't hurt this time."_

She smiled and caressed his lips with her fingertips.

"_I know." _

"_Okay." _

Kurloz leaned down, briefly locked their lips in a butterfly kiss before she widened her thighs apart for him. The hand on her chin moved to his side so he could shift his weight on his lower arm while the other positioned himself inside. Meulin placed her hands on the top of his broad shoulders in last minute before he gingerly eased himself in. Her eyes closed and she gasped at the sensation of being filled once again. He had made sure, inch after inch, to pay close attention to her reaction but all he could see was her expression of rapture. It felt slick and foreign but intoxicating nonetheless.

Several candles extinguished with time, wax melted in a puddle while others blazed with strength and still reflected the shades of wine and pale blue.

Meulin gave him a reassuring nod, diminishing any thoughts of discomfort. One of her hands trailed up his neck and to the back of his ear to curl a strand of hair around her finger. His hips lifted and created an unhurried bounce as she craned her head and drew out tiny sighs and abrupt intakes of breath. Her whole body shifted above the comforter and her cheeks prickled like a limb that fell asleep.

The casual pace gradually increased and she wrinkled her brows at the constant pleasure of being filled by the person she so wonderfully loved.

"_Kurloz!" _

His name rolled off of her modest tongue. It was the first time she had said it in that way and it aroused her in a strangely comforting way. The movement of their bodies became more obvious on the bedding and her face held the strained anguish of warmth and pleasure that spread throughout her body. At some point, he nimbly removed the hand from his shoulder to interlace their fingers on the bed. She clutched to the feeling of his heartbeat and barely glanced up with slit eyes.

He never looked away from her.

She evoked a consistent pattern of wails and moans. Her head nodded to him in constant reassurance and his pace quickened with haste to which she whined and kept her mouth agape. He hit her g spot over and over, the same prickling from her cheeks now suffusing throughout her stomach, chest, limbs and tips.

The heat escalated and the hand in his hair slid down to grip his forearm, pitch higher and higher with each thrust he made. She felt submerged in a hot bath that was deliberately filling to reach the brim. She craned her head back and wailed in long intervals, the deep pleasure spreading from that spot he hit. It made her face scrunch in ecstasy. Kurloz couldn't help but to lower his head at this and pound deeper, her cries like an addiction. It looked like she wanted to sob any moment.

The water overflowed and spilled righteously. He fucked her through it as she practically tore the skin on the hand that intertwined with hers. She shakily and sporadically yelled in mirth with eyes fluttered back, the spasms like waves and it forced its way inside every part of her body. He progressively slowed his pace and leaned down to sloppily kiss her cheek. She could feel the hot breath from his nose and the now dried curls that caressed her face. Eventually he stopped and she could level her breathing and soak up the glory of her delirium. He kissed the side of her mouth.

"_Can I …Uh…"_

She could feel the irregular breaths on her skin and looked up at him, he still looking like he was in a delirious state of lust. She giggled.

"_What is it?" _

"_Can I…Inside you." _

He looked down and scratched his head to which she tilted her own and finally dawned on her.

"_Of course you can."_

"_You sure..?"_

She nodded excitedly as she moved the hand up from his forearm back to his shoulder. He looked on the edge didn't hesitate to thrust faster than before. She gasped in surprise but paid close attention to the tension on his face. His head lowered with teeth bare and gritted against each other.

"_Kurloz…!"_

It was enough for him to stiffen, widen his mouth and roll his eyes. She arched her back in awe, eyes dilated in an eternal astonishment. She knew she was protected but with such an expression, emotion and even the thought of him spilling inside of her she couldn't help but react all the same. The one moment where she enjoyed herself the most was the moment she regretted because she couldn't hear his wonderful cry, and she'll never be able to.

The feeling was bittersweet.

He slowly lowered his torso, buried his face in the crook of her neck and curled his arms around her frame. They both steadied their breaths; she massaged his back and closed her eyes. It was safe to say that they would clean each other up, change the sheets and fall in a satisfying slumber but for now she wanted to feel the curls of his hair tickling her cheek, his hard body on top of hers that expelled body heat, sweat and his heartbeat while she squeezed his interlaced hand. She wanted to cherish the feeling of him inside, never wanting to be apart. She wanted to indulge in his natural scent while it mixed with all the other manufactured ones by the candlelight. Most of all, she wanted to forever remember the image of periwinkles and wines displayed on his walls and to always keep the sensation of tingling cheeks and feeling loved in every way possible, to keep the trust and love she felt for Kurloz Makara.

"_I love you." _

When she said it, he still had enough energy to move his face in front of hers and lock their lips in a messy but passionate manner.

She knew he loved her back because she could always feel it in their kiss, no matter what.

* * *

Meulin Leijon awoke late on a Sunday evening.

Her body was splayed under the encasing grey sheets and black comforter; limbs were wide apart and took over the whole space, unaware of their vacant inamorato until it was too late. She rotated her head from her left where there was nothing but wall to her right and felt the cotton fabric tickle her nose. There was a faint scent of laundry detergent and she inhaled, happily remembering when Kurloz smelled of fresh gardens.

Her eyes slit open, letting in a familiar white light that made prisms all across her lashes. Whatever they did after their love making, it wasn't coming to mind. Maybe it didn't matter. Those details won't be of much importance if she finds out they just cleaned up, dressed and huddled in bed. Her eyes scrunched for a second and tried to let in the brightness of the walls. She could see one ICP poster had been put back on the wall opposite her own. The blur of the window above the night stand made her assume it was going to be one of those blank, March mornings-

Her heart skipped. The setting was too familiar.

Meulin's eyes warily glanced over to see her lover hunched on his work desk with nothing but a dark blue t shirt and matching boxers. His curls were tangled in a wet mess, his elbow propped up the side of his head which rested on his fist. She couldn't see his face but knew he was focused on the screen of his laptop. His legs were parted and one foot tapped on the floorboard. He, most likely, was working on something in a program and she blinked, inhaled and yawned.

The small noise must have been loud enough for him to hear because he slowly stretched his arms up, stood from his chair, closed his laptop and moved his body away from the desk so his frame could face her. Her upper body sprang vertically, in the manner of one just having a nightmare. The sheets crumbled in front of her pale purple tank top and pink panties. Her face retained curiosity while inwardly, her mind was short-circuiting and unable to comprehend what it was she had the utmost privilege to witness Kurloz's face.

_It was bare._

"Hi, sweetheart."

He moved with a grace, lopsided grin plastered on his lips. The dimple that formed on his cheek and the small, thin lines beside his eyes were clearly plain to her. He leaned down and she could see again the scattered beauty marks and tired eyelids. His kiss, when she inhaled, did not have the scent of spearmint but that of fresh cotton, like his home would. The prickles on her cheeks became alive and that sweet thought of skin sticking when they parted made her chest well with fascination and joy.

"Good morning, Kurzorz."

"Evening, actually."

"Oh. Oops."

The grin never left his face and she traced the tiny hairs that grew on his jawline before it cupped his smooth cheek. She guessed he didn't bother to shave when he was in the shower. Small beads of water looked like dew atop his sharp hairs. He closed his eyes and she could feel the warmth emanating not just from his face but from his entire person. She prayed, for only a moment, that this wasn't a cruel dream but she took a look at those long lashes and healthy tan...

...It was all so very real.

"You like pancakes or waffles?"

She hunched her shoulders.

"Um…I like pancakes."

He pried his almond-shaped eyes open and smirked.

"You such a north kid."

"Nuh-uh!"

He laughed breathily, straightened his back upright and ran a hand through his damp curls.

"It'll be ready in about, let's say…twenty minutes. You can take a shower around that time, right?"

"Mmhm!"

"'Kay."

He moved like a feather. His legs twirled his body around and his legs ambled in a smooth, melodious tempo. He swayed towards the edge of the casing on the door, putting his forehead on it before he rotated his body around to face her in an awkward way. It was like his hands couldn't help him stand upright so he used his own head for support, like he was inebriated or toked on the maximum dosage of sort of hallucinogenic drug. Even on marijuana, he never acted like this around her. His face still retained that same, lopsided grin. The bright light from the window made his lidded eyes glow with innocence, as well as the rest of his skin. She giggled and crinkled her nose when he twirled again, this time in the direction out the bedroom and it left her to reflect on the progress she just made. It was rejuvenating to just stare at him and she leveled her suddenly rising pattern of breath, unsure about it all.

She decided that a shower would be best to clear her mind of creeping uncertainties. She folded the crumpled sheets, walked across the cool floorboard where there wasn't a candle to be found, grabbed her pink backpack and headed out the doorway into the bathroom.

After more or less fifteen minutes, she emerged up the stairs and welcomed a warming scent of breakfast with a long, blood red towel wrapped around her body as she let her hair dry.

They ate together at the dinner table. She sat opposite him, watching his eager lips be stuffed with biscuits and move with ideas for the Easter Bash coming up in two weeks. She dreaded her science project involving clean energy and he promised to help with some research as best he could when he had the free time. They helped each other out with dishes and went downstairs to properly dress. He told her not to worry about the grey weather and that the sun would come out later in the evening. It gave her the incentive to put on an orange, puffy sun dress with yellow flower print, spaghetti straps and length above her knees. He slipped on some ashy grey pants and black socks to walk around in the house. She looked twice, all around his bedroom to make sure she wasn't going to leave any sort of important belongings behind, zipped up her backpack and they both headed back upstairs. Since she had to work on an outline for an essay and didn't want any 'lovely distractions' she decided to go home early. He offered her a ride home and she happily accepted so he slipped on some black converse and she her shiny, black dress shoes that didn't exactly match but when they stood in front of each other it didn't matter.

She was behind the front door, beaming up at him while he tugged playfully at the pale pink straps around her shoulders. It would be rare to see his face again so casually did she take as long as she could to observe his exotic features; from the hair that framed his simple features to the full lips that she wanted to kiss over and over and over again. They only communicated a wordless understanding and love for one another with their eyes.

And maybe she was close to healing like he was. Maybe one day, sooner or later, she would tell him about the accident. She would tell him about her losses. She would tell him everything just as he has and he would accept every detail. Her hopes were too high and nothing could bring her down.

"You have everything?"

She nodded as he moved the hand from her strap and caressed her shoulder.

"Okay."

Kurloz leaned down to kiss her cheek and Meulin grinned boisterously, loving the feel of life and renewal on her skin. He leaned his head up and put his forehead on hers, moving both his hands between her back and her bag, bringing her even closer. She peeked up with mirth, knowing he didn't want to let her go just yet.

"…Say it again."

Her smile partly faded with interest, eyes undecided as to what he mouthed. He looked down and squeezed her waist in desperation, brows almost wrinkled.

"Please, say it."

It took a moment but the sparkle in her eyes came back to life, the beam transformed into a foolish grin and her arms encircled around his back, not looking at his mouth but his neutral eyes.

"_I love you, Kurloz."_

His lips tugged upward, his eyes closed and he nodded in a silent thank you. She could feel the heat of his skin as he slid his face down next to her neck and the now dried curls that tickled her ears. They embraced each other for a long time, she soothing his upper back with her flat hands. Their bodies squished even closer; his strong grip never let up while her back arched and her feet lifted, wanting to feel the beat of his medium once more.

When she closed her eyes she only saw the redness of her eyelids, but the feeling of his heart exploded into tiny bits of fireworks into her darkness, resembling that of the night sky. It was basic, and cheesy, and unequivocally visceral.

His body weight became heavy under her hold and collapsed to the ground, being cautious of the hard tile beneath them. Their knees pressed together and her feet bent unnaturally against the door frame. Her hands slid up to his hair, knowing it would comfort him and didn't question their sudden descent.

That was until she felt a trickle of liquid slid down her shoulders.

"Kurloz…"

She didn't feel saddened, or alarmed or even distressed. It was as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. All she did was massage his deep curls and leaned her face towards his own.

Kurloz Makara didn't budge.

He didn't whine, or sob or hiss.

He didn't crease his brow or upturn his mouth or scrunch his lips.

There were no trials or tribulations to look back on or even the faintest sentiment of misery.

There wasn't anything but the last of his winter to dispel from his eyes, roll off her shoulders and vaporize into nihility.

It left nothing but the last trail of amaranths in its place.

Kurloz held Meulin, his star, in his arms and never wanted her to leave his spring ever again.


End file.
